


Weaponized

by AmarahOsiris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Azazel (Supernatural) Being an Asshole, Canon Divergence - Supernatural, Character Death, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Explicit Language, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Reader-Insert, dying, except for a few parts, more or less canon violence, set in early seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-07-28 08:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmarahOsiris/pseuds/AmarahOsiris
Summary: With the power to kill anything she touches, John Winchester only intended to use her as a weapon against the Yellow Eyed Demon. Now, despite appearing to be boring, she has managed to capture both of his sons’ hearts. What could go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

A three am text wakes Sam Winchester from his already troubled sleep. He hadn’t had a good night’s rest since his girlfriend Jessica Moore died six months ago.

It’s Dean Winchester, his older brother, whose cell phone is disturbing him. He tried to wake him with his voice alone but it does no good. So he gets the phone and looks for himself.

It’s a text.

“39.978371, -86.118042”

Coordinates. Which means their father is sending them on a hunt.

Now Sam knows he has to get out of bed and physically wake his brother.

“Dean?” Sam pokes him. “Dean!”

Dean grunts and slaps Sam hand away. “Hmm?”

“You gotta text from dad. Coordinates.” He hands Dean his cell phone while he walks over towards the little table by the motel room window, opening his laptop and booting it on.

“Read me those coordinates?” Sam asks as he pulled up a search browser.

“39.978371, -86.118042,” Dean mumbled in a sleepy voice. He dragged himself out of bed to make some coffee in the mini coffee maker the motel generously provided.

A few minutes later, Sam has the results of his search and starts searching for local news about anything out of the ordinary.

“Where’s today’s hunt, little brother?” Dean mused as the scent of coffee spread throughout the room.

“Carmel, Indiana,” Sam replies. “It’s a suburb outside Indianapolis. And from what I can find, there’s nothing there.”

“Burbs normally aren’t that exciting,” Dean says as he pours himself a cup of joe and one for Sam. He brings it over to Sam and peers over his shoulder.

“No, I mean, there’s nothing remotely supernatural going on in Carmel,” Sam sighed, taking a sip of the poorly roasted coffee. He’s learned to take his caffeine source where he can though and keeps quiet about it. “So why is Dad sending us there? What  _job_ will we be working if there’s nothing to hunt? It’s not like he’s ordering us to go on vacation. Even if he would, I doubt he’d be cruel enough to send us to some random suburb in Indiana.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said, finishing his coffee in a single, large gulp. “But Dad’s sending us on a job and that’s where we’re going. Pack your shit, Sammy. We leave in an hour.”

Sam just rolled his eyes as he shut down his laptop. He walked over to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He takes a piss before turning on the shower, stripping naked in the process. As the lukewarm water with crappy water pressure poured over his shaggy brown hair, he let his thoughts wander.

_I really wish Dad would fucking tell us what he wants,_  Sam thought bitterly as he grabbed the cheap motel shampoo and lathered up.  _I’ve spent too many damn years playing this game with him. After everything me and Dean have gone through, he owes us some fucking answers._ He rinsed the shampoo out of his hand and moved onto grabbing an equally cheap bar of soap and lathered it across his nude body.  _I wonder if Dad even cares anymore. I mean, he’s been so wrapped up in his obsession to find the thing that killed Mom and, sad to say, Jessica._

Sam felt his heart give a rough kick against his ribs at the thought of his late girlfriend. Jessica Lee Moore was a little less than nine months younger than Sam, about five inches shorter than he, with long wavy blonde hair, the bluest of eyes Sam had ever seen, and the fiercest will he’d ever seen in a woman. He really didn’t have another woman to compare her to; that’s probably why she was the top of her class in nursing school at Stanford. Jess never let anyone push her over, always supported and lifted up her friends when she could, and Sam practically worshiped the ground she walked on. He was still having a hard time dealing with her loss. She died because he was too afraid to let his past and, by extension, the ‘family business’, get in the way of his happiness. He was finally free from the confines of the Winchester mission, something he never wanted to be part of.  _Lotta good that did me,_ Sam’s brain bitterly mused.

He rinsed the soap off from his body, now smelling slightly like pinewood trees, and turned off the water. Grabbing the towel, he dried his hair and ran it the length of his body, then wrapped it around his waist, tucking it into his hipbone so it stayed in place as he got out of the molding-tile shower. He was certain there was enough hot water left for Dean to shower should he choose to before they left, but with the motels they tended to stay in, his guess was a good as anyone’s. He brushed his teeth then changed into a fresh pair of boxers, jeans, t-shirt and pair of socks. The chones were his last clean pair and he made a mental note to tell Dean to swing by a laundromat on the way into Carmel, Indiana. Emerging from the bathroom, he saw Dean throwing the last of his stuff into one of the many duffle bags they used as luggage. Sam did the same, starting with his toiletry bag, moving on to pack his laptop up, then he threw the dirty clothes he’d been wearing the day before into their shared laundry bag, then with Dean’s help they threw it all into the trunk of their dad’s 1967 Chevy Impala, sleek black and looking like it hadn’t aged since it rolled off the press, and closed the trunk door.

Another ten minutes and their room was successfully check out of and Dean was hitting the accelerator towards the highway, putting the no-name motel in the Impala’s rear view mirror.

—

A nineteen hour drive lay ahead of them, so the Winchester brothers did their usual thing of switching drivers whenever the current driver needed to rest. Since Dean always started the journey, Sam took the opportunity to catch a nap. Given the sounds of the road and the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine, plus the music softly playing from the earphones of his iPod, Sam managed to nap a few hours uninterrupted. Which, given how his life had turned out, wasn’t too terrible. They stopped for a quick meal, gas and road snacks a few times before finally entering Carmel, Indiana city limits. Besides the creepy emboss-colored statues surrounding the main roads, nothing piqued the young hunters’ interests in the way of supernatural crap.

They found a motel very similar to the one they left behind in Story, Wyoming and settled in for a night of finding out why the hell they were there. An hour into getting comfortable, a rough knock sounded at their motel door. Armed and ready since they weren’t expecting company, Dean went ahead of Sam, who covered his back like always.

When Dean opened the door to point his trusty Colt M1911A1 at their guest, he immediately regretted it. Sam did too as he instantly lowered his own weapon.

“Dad?!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> WARNING: MODERATE ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, JOHN WINCHESTER’S A+ PARENTING, FIGHTING/ARGUING

* * *

 

John Winchester was a gruff and rugged man pushing into his early fifties. His once dark hair was a salt and pepper mix as was his thick facial hair. Sam and Dean had a healthy mix of both their mother and father’s features, if pictures from before Mary Winchester’s death was any indication.

“Hey boys,” John said, stepping past Dean and clapping a shocked Sam on the shoulder before setting his own duffel bag down on one of the beds. “Glad you two made it here safely.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked. Dean secretly hoped his brother asking this question wouldn’t lead to another one of their knockdown, drag-out fights. “More importantly, what are  _we_ doing here? I looked everywhere I could online and there’s no wind of a hunt.”

“Not yet anyway,” John replied, setting his eyes hard on his younger son. “There is a reason you’re here, and it’s more than just a hunt. It’s a means to end this mess that started when your mother died once and for all.”

“Okay,” Dean said, shutting and bolting the motel door. “You have our attention.”

“What’s so important that isn’t hunt related?” Sam said, his own eyes boring into his father’s forehead.

John sighed before grabbing a motel stationary and pen from the nightstand in between the two double beds. He scribbled something down that mirrored the all-too familiar scratchy handwriting in the journal they’d inherited from him and handed it to Sam.

It was an address.

“I want you to go to this address,” John commanded. “There’s a young woman who lives there. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. You are to protect her with your lives. It’s important.”

“Why?” Sam challenged.

“Because I said so,” John knocked back.

“Not good enough,” Sam growled.

“Excuse me?” John contested.

“You heard me,” Sam replied angrily, his heart pounding furiously with courage and adrenaline. “That’s. Not. Good. Enough. We’re not children anymore. You can’t just bark orders at us like we’re your mindless soldiers.”

“Sam,” Dean began slowly but Sam cut him off.

“No, Dean!” Sam spat back. “I don’t think he understands who we are now and he needs to hear this.” Sam turned back to face John, who was right up in his face, staring him down as if to intimidate him. “You have no idea the dangers we’ve faced over the last six months. Hell, some of that danger you sent us into yourself! We’re not the little boys you trained to be killers. We’re not going anywhere until you tell us exactly what the hell we’re walking into! And that’s that.”

Both John and Sam were heavily breathing each other’s air space. Sam’s heart was still pumping like a well-oiled piston with fury and defiance. John finally closed his eyes and took a calming breath.

“You’re right.”

Sam blinked. Dean did a double-take between his father and brother.

“You’re not children anymore. Therefore you should know damn well not to question me when I give you an order. You want more information? Tough shit, Sam. I’ve told you all you need to know for now. Now you get out there and you do your damn jobs.”

Sam looked at his father incredulously. “I can’t fucking believe this. What the fuck are we supposed to tell her, Dad?! You really think this girl, or whatever, is gonna believe two strange men showing up at her doorstep saying ‘hi, you don’t know us but we’ve been sent by our dad to protect you, now come with us if you want to live’?” Sam had raised his voice sometime during his rant, his breathing still erratic.

“You know, Dad, Sammy’s gotta point,” Dean finally chimed in, much calmer than his younger brother. “This chick won’t know us from Jack or Sally. If we’re supposed to be protecting her, how are we gonna do that? Do you have a story she’s gonna believe?”

Sam looked at his brother and they exchanged a silent look. John just pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled.

“You two are smart men and gifted hunters. I mean, I would fucking hope so, I raised you that way. So figure it out.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. Sam just kept his angry gaze on John, his nostrils flaring with each breath he took and let out.

“This conversation is over,” John said, walking towards the door. “I want you two at her place in the morning, no exceptions. If I don’t see the Impala out front by 9am, it’s not gonna end well for you two.”

“Ahh you’ve moved onto threatening us. Nice one, Dad,” Sam drawled. Dean was thankful John just ignored him and left, slamming the door behind him.

Sam didn’t say anything to Dean as he waited for John’s truck to leave before dashing out the door himself.

He needed to cool off before he did or said something he was going to regret. He walked a distance before he realized he was in an empty corn field across the highway from the motel. The fall air cooled the perspiration off his face and neck. Breathing in said air, he could feel his heart rate slowing down and his breathing coming back under his control. He looked towards the sky and saw it blanketed with stars and a crescent moon waning from above the horizon. Despite it being a mediocre suburb, Sam acknowledged Carmel, Indiana held a pretty night sky.

He looked up and saw a shooting star, and imagine for a heartbeat that it was Jessica, watching over him.

A single tear trickled down his face as he said aloud to no one, “You shouldn’t have to see that, Jess. I’m sorry you had to see that. But…this is why I hid this from you. You didn’t deserve to know about my shitty family and our drama.” He kissed his fingers and raised them high above his head. “I love you, baby.”

Sam spent a few more minutes out in the field before heading back inside. Him and Dean went to bed without another word to each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> WARNING: ANGST, LANGUAGE, DEMON ATTACKS

* * *

 

The Winchester’s day started off dismally the next morning. The torrential downpour didn’t help their mood either.

Ensuring they had their umbrellas in the backseat rather than the truck, they pulled out of the motel parking lot and drove the twenty minutes to this Y/N Y/L/N’s house. When they pulled up, they could see their father’s truck parked as far away as it could be while still having a view of the woman’s property. Sam just glared at the truck as it started and left the scene.

“Ever wonder what it’s like to have a father?” Sam grumbled.

“We do have a father,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes, knowing it was going to be one of  _those_ kind of days with Sam.

“No,  _you_ have a father. I have a drill sergeant who refuses to acknowledge I’m not a Marine.” Sam still had a scowl on his face as he and Dean got out of the car, umbrellas undone and shielding them from the rain.

The neighborhood itself didn’t look spectacular. It appeared more or less how Dean remembered his neighborhood in Lawrence. Houses of different sizes and colors, more or less tidy lawns and some houses with children’s outdoor toys in the front yard. If his mother was still alive, he imagined his parents would still be living there; Dad mowing the lawn on Saturdays, Mom making fresh apple pies to go with dinner, Sammy probably already married with a degree in something, and he’d probably be following in his dad’s footsteps in running a mechanic’s shop.

Of course, if his mother was still alive, they wouldn’t about to be barging in on some poor woman’s life with the mission to protect her from the supernatural evils of the world with theirs. Dean sighed.

They slowly walked to the front door; Sam’s heartbeat increased with each step he took. He didn’t know why he was so jittery; he only had a single cup of coffee and he didn’t even finish it because it was too nasty to choke down. He also surprisingly got a decent amount of sleep too; his nightmares stay away and were replaced with dreams that just didn’t make any sense.

Dean approached the door first and, after opening the screen in front with a shaking hand, knocked hard three times.

The woman who opened the door left much to be desired.

—

Sam couldn’t have been more shocked if he tried.

Y/N was…unimpressive on first impressions. She wasn’t ugly by any means, but she wasn’t stark-raving drop-dead gorgeous either. Her hair was average looking, she had a girlish charm to her face, almost as if she hadn’t quite grown out of her baby features, and she wore plain clothing. Nothing very revealing, but nothing that would scream “chastity club president” either.

“Hi!” Y/N said to the men. “Can I help you?”

Neither brother said anything. Y/N looked around uncomfortably.

“Are you lost?”

Still, neither man said anything. So she stepped forward and placed two fingers from each hand along the sides of their necks, feeling two steady pulses beneath them. Both of them quickly snapped out of their trance and swatted her hands away.

“Do you mind?” Dean grunted.

“Well, you two looked like you slipped into comas at my front door!” Y/N defended, hands attaching to her hips. “Had to make sure you were still with me. Now that I have your attention, how can I help you?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look that said  _“now or never.”_

“We’re not sure we have a story you’ll believe,” Sam said.

Y/N looked between them, and she could sense their hesitation.  _Neither of them want to be here, so it must be dire._  She smiled at them. “Well then, you two best come inside. If for nothing else, this rain isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold!”

She opened the door wider to allow the men to pass beyond the threshold.

The inside of Y/N’s home was just as average and boring as she was, Sam observed. There were clear-cut copies of famous artwork on the walls, and the walls were painted a solid beige throughout, though it was clean.

It didn’t take long for Dean to start sneezing uncontrollably.

“Oh man,” Y/N mused, reaching for a box of tissues she keeps in the kitchen. “Cold’s already bit you, huh?”

Sam did his best to choke back a laugh; Dean smacked him for it. He blew his nose before asking in a nasally voice, “you wouldn’t happen to own cats, would you?”

“I do!” Y/N exclaimed. “Three of them to be precise. Why do you ask?”

Before Dean could protest and inform her he was allergic, three cats of different colors came out from underneath the couch and made their way towards the floor-to-ceiling cat tree in the living room. This was why Sam laughed; he wasn’t sure how his brother could miss such a contraption so close to the front door. An all-white and all-black cat stopped and immediately rubbed their bodies against Sam’s leg, their purrs reverberating inside him. He bent over to pet them; the black one hissed slightly but the white one nuzzled his hand. An orange tabby reached up to try and grab the hand that Dean didn’t have a used tissue in. Dean was trying his damnest not to be rude and swat the cat across the house, but he knew if he didn’t get out of there, he was going to be fighting off allergy attacks the rest of the week.

“The white one’s name is Weiss,” Y/N began, “black one is Blake, and the orange tabby is Yang. All girls, all very friendly. Especially if you give them treats. Though I will admit, Blake tends to be wary of strangers. Came from an abusive home.”

“You’ll have to forgive my brother, ma'am,” Sam mused with a cheeky grin, “he’s allergic to cats.”

Y/N’s face dropped. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! Yang! Get away from him!” Y/N started shooing the orange tabby away from Dean, and Yang climbed the cat tree all the way to the top. She offered him more tissues before inviting them to sit. She offered them some tea and scones but Sam declined on his and Dean’s behalf.

“So,” she took a sip of her tea as she sat in the easy chair across from their position on the couch. “You say you’ve gotta story I won’t believe. I’ve got plenty of tea to handle whatever it is you throw at me. Shoot.”

Sam figured Dean was in no position to talk so he started the conversation off.

“Well, first off, my name is Sam Winchester,” Sam placed one hand over his heart and extended the other for her to shake, which she did, “this is my older brother Dean.”

Dean just waved at her, and she returned it with a smile. Sam continued.

“And we were sent here by our father, John Winchester.”

“Okay, so far I follow,” Y/N said, biting into a homemade raspberry lemon scone.

But before Sam could go any further, the door was kicked in off its hinges. Weiss, Blake and Yang hid under the couch again for safety as the Winchesters got up to stand in front of Y/N. Three burly men wearing all black entered the home. They all blinked at the same time to reveal matte black eyes. Y/N gasped slightly.

“Demons,” Sam snarled. Dean threw the tissues on the ground before reaching for his gun. Which he didn’t have.

Neither brother was armed to deal with this new threat.

The demon who appeared to be leading the pack snarled back. “Winchesters.” The demon to his right flung his arm in the air and Sam and Dean flew back and hit the wall.

Y/N looked back at them before swiveling her head to face the monsters.

“We’ve orders to bring you in alive,” the demon in front said, his black eyes unwavering, “don’t put up a fight or else I’ll be forced to disobey.”

Y/N regarded them for a moment before saying, “you broke my front door! That’s not very nice, you know.”

The first man reached out to grab her, but she was quicker. With her eyes glowing a bright blue, she shoved her hand against the demon’s chest. Within a matter of seconds, the demon started struggling to breathe. His eyes flashed back to their normal human appearance before they started smoldering. Ten seconds later, he dropped to the ground, dead. She wasted no time dispatching the rest of the demons with the same methodology.

When they were all dead, she turned around to see Sam and Dean staring at her with wide eyes and dropped jaws. She expected as much.

“Okay!” She exclaimed with a big smile. “Who wants more scones?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLANGST

* * *

 

Stunned with pounding hearts, Sam and Dean stare at Y/N after her heroic (if one could call it that) display of power.

She walks over towards them and extends her hands to help them up, which that accept.

“How,” Sam began, voice trembling, “how did you do that?”

“It’s my super power!” Y/N replies happily, as if she’d been told she won the lottery. “I can kill anything with a direct touch. Though, I do have to want it for it to work.”

“You have to  _want_ it?” Dean asked, skeptical.

“Well, yeah,” Y/N drawled dramatically. “I mean, if I killed everything I touched whether I wanted to or not, I wouldn’t have cats. Or neighbors. Hell, you two would’ve been dead already.”

She smiled at them like explaining her power came as naturally as breathing. Sam and Dean just blinked but sat back down. Sam chose this moment to take advantage of Y/N’s offer for a snack. Biting into the raspberry lemon scone, he couldn’t help the slight moan that escaped his lips as he chewed and savored the treat.

“They’re good huh?” Y/N grinned, offering one to Dean, who declined once more. She assumed his appetite was shot. Sam just nodded before taking a sip of the tea Y/N poured for him. “Homemade. The recipe is my own creation.”

“You wrote the recipe?” Sam said after swallowing his bite.

“Uh-huh,” Y/N said through her smile. “People around here dubbed me the ‘neighborhood baking goddess’ after I supplied the winter storm relief bake sale a few years back. Everything that was sold was made right there in that kitchen,” she pointed to the bar sticking out from the stretched-out opening in the wall that showed a glimpse of the oven installed around particle board oak cabinets, “I had to make several trips home to restock the tables. They raised over $7,000 in a matter of hours!” Y/N beamed with pride over the accomplishment. Given how much Sam was enjoying the treats, he couldn’t blame her.

“Everything I bake or cook comes from a recipe I devised myself,” Y/N went on. “I don’t cook anything that originates from a box. I prefer the real deal, made from my heart.” She placed her hands over her breasts and smiled to herself as she spoke.

“Yeah, we’re thrilled for ya,” Dean mused, “now, about why we’re here-”

“Johnny sent you?”

The brothers blinked.

“The second you said 'Winchester’ I knew exactly who you were. Uncle Bobby told me about you two and your dad. I call him Johnny when he’s not around. Only met him once and he didn’t seem friendly. Never knew he had kids until a few years ago, though. Uncle Bobby filled me in on that fact.”

“'Uncle Bobby?’” Sam asked.

“Bobby Singer,” Y/N replied. “I’m sure you know about him right?”

“He had a hand in raising us,” Dean said. “Course, I wasn’t aware Bobby had siblings. My understand was he was an only child.”

“So, because I’m not blood I can’t be family?” Y/N smarted back. She looked at Sam and said, “is he always this thick?”

Sam bit back a chuckle as Dean glared at her.

“Anyway,” Y/N continued, “you were sent here by Johnny. Why?”

“Well,” Sam said, setting down his now-empty plate and cup, “we’re supposed to protect you with our lives.”

“Protect me from what?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Sam answered. “Dad doesn’t do a very good job on giving details up front.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“But nonetheless,” Sam said, “given demons just tried to abduct you, I’d say he made a good call. We will protect you, from whatever is coming for you. It’s kind of our job.”

“Hunters,” Y/N surmised. Sam nodded.

“So,” Dean said, standing up, “you coming? Or are we gonna have to drag you to the car and hogtie you in the back?”

“No need to be snide,” Y/N said, standing up to take Sam’s dishes to the kitchen. She quickly rinsed them off and stuck them inside the dishwasher. Then she turned back to face the brothers. “Let me get some stuff packed. Then I gotta go talk to my neighbor about caring for the kitties while I’m gone.”

Sam and Dean both acknowledged her needs before stepping outside, umbrellas still sitting on the porch where they left them. There were a few lawn chairs on the porch and they sat down in them, waiting for their new charge to be ready.

—

Y/N called her neighbor and asked them to feed the cats on their usual scheduled. She made sure to inform them that the litter box was moved  _again_ back to the garage and that there should be plenty of litter for them. Anything the cats needed while she was gone she promised to pay them back once she returned.

As she was packing, she thought back to what Sam Winchester had told her.

_“We will protect you, from whatever is coming for you. It’s kind of our job.”_

She became worried as she threw shirts, pants, underwear and bras into her suitcase. She wondered if she needed to be packing her entire life, including Weiss, Blake and Yang, to come along with her. If something big and nasty was after her, it was obvious they knew where she lived. They’d keep coming back until they got their way, and even then, what was their goal? What did they really want with her? She wasn’t anything or anyone special. She worked from home as a freelance editor, read cheesy romance novels when she wasn’t creating a new recipe to try for dinner, and took care of three cats. She was the ultimate crazy-cat-lady while being only twenty-one. Sure, she had the power to kill with her touch, but it’s not  _that_ special, is it? Certainly there were others out there like her. There had to be, right?  _So why me? And why now?_

And what were the Winchesters’ involvement in all this? It definitely wasn’t a coincidence that they knew Bobby Singer. They were all supernatural hunters just like he was. Maybe Uncle B threw them a tip? Maybe her powers could help them out?

But then again, if there was nothing in it for her, Y/N knew she wouldn’t be useful.

By the time she was packed and ready to go, she’d realized she was getting too ahead of herself. Maybe the demons and the Winchesters involvement were two separate things. As she walked out the front door, locked it, and ensured her spare key was underneath a rock shaped like a frog holding a sign that said “have a ribbity riveting day!”, she left her worries on her doormat as she followed the men to a muscle car old enough to be her dad.

Sam opened the back door for her as Dean slipped her suitcase in the trunk.

As the car pulled away from the curb, Y/N had no idea this was the last time she’d ever see her home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLANGST

* * *

 

A safe house in Whitefish, Montana was their destination. It was owned by one Rufus Turner, who the Winchesters claimed to be a friend of Bobby’s. Y/N took their word for it; she’d never heard of a tall black man being longtime hunting buddies with Bobby. But then again, she didn’t know Johnny Winchester had two sons around her age until a few years ago, so who knew what was what when it came to her beloved uncle.

The drive itself was very boring. Despite having music, books and a laptop that had every pirated movie she could ever ask for, she still complained about everything. Something the Winchesters weren’t happy about.

“Is this why you work from home?” Dean asked after Y/N asked for the 12th time in the four hours they were on the road if they were there yet. “You can’t stand the thought of being on a road for more than five seconds?”

“I’ll have you know,” Y/N retorted, “that the job market in Carmel, Indiana is crap. Working from home was the ethical choice for employment.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam mused, eating a banana, “then why are you so annoying?”

“Because screw you, Winchester. If you didn’t want to put up with me, you should’ve told your dad no.”

Sam was about to say something, but kept his mouth shut.  _If only she knew how you_ can’t  _tell Dad no,_ he thought.

The brothers shared an amused look before Dean put his eyes back on the road. Sam finished his banana and went back to his book.

Twelve hours into the ride led to it being dark outside. Sam and Dean were both too tired to drive any further and they knew they had another fourteen hours to go before reaching the safe house. They pulled into a motel to rent a room for the night. But it wasn’t until the room was rented that Dean remembered they had an extra guest. And a female one at that.

“Thanks for noticing,” Y/N mocked when Dean told Sam this.

“How do you wanna do this, Dean?” Sam asked.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Y/N said, “or in the car. I’m not picky.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Dean affirmed. “I’ll sleep in the car. You two take a bed.”

“But I already offered!” Y/N argued. Sam just placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t waste your breath, when Dean makes up his mind, there’s no changing it.”

Y/N looked at Dean sadly, feeling guilty.

“Look, it’s clear neither of you are accustomed to sharing a room with anyone but each other. I’m the odd one out. I have money, I’ll go get my own room. That way, nobody is stuck waking up in the morning needing an emergency chiropractor appointment.”

“No save your money,” Dean replied. “I don’t mind, I spent most of my life sleeping in the Impala. I know how to make it comfy.”

“Don’t tell me what to do with my money! It’s not like we’re staying at the Marriott. You two sleep in here and I’ll go put my name on a twin bed set here.”

“Y/N, I really don’t mind-”

“Well I do!”

“Guys,” Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean and Y/N looked at him. “Look, I’m tired, it’s late and we’ve still gotta long way to go before we hit Rufus’ cabin. Dean, if you wanna sleep in the Impala, knock yourself out. Y/N, if you wanna go get your own room, by all means. But can we just make a decision and go to bed? Please?”

Taking a closer look at him, Y/N noticed that Sam really was tired. As he spoke, he was swaying on his feet, his eyes only half open. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was getting sick.

But in the end, Y/N and Sam stayed in the room and Dean made a pallet for himself inside his dad’s old Impala.

—

Sixteen hours after they hit the road from motel no-name, they were pulling up to a weather but sturdy log cabin roughly the same age as Dean’s car. Inside left much to be desired, but it had everything they would need to survive, including electricity. Which was good because the fridge was void of any grub and a grocery store trip was on the list. Sam volunteered to go make a trip into town and Dean stayed behind to show Y/N around. It was a lot bigger than it looked on the outside, though Sam and Dean still had to share a bedroom. The shower didn’t have the greatest water pressure but the hot water heater was fully functional so Y/N supposed it could’ve been worse.

While Y/N took a nap, Dean stepped outside to call John and let him know what was going on. John gave Dean told him ‘good job’ in his own unique way before hanging up. Dean was starting to see why Sam was always frustrated with their dad; despite always following his father’s orders, he thought this time around, since he’d taken a complete stranger from her home to a log cabin in the middle of nowhere with orders to protect her, he’d be given something more than a “good job son” and being hung up on. Like maybe a hint as to why he did it in the first place.  _In a perfect world,_ Dean thought as the Impala pulled up. He and Sam unloaded the truck with food to last them a few weeks at least.

After a week of getting a routine down, Sam and Dean decided to start training Y/N how to hunt. Sam started with basic combat skills, teaching her how to fight in hand to hand combat.

“Sometimes monsters can pose as humans to blend in,” Sam said as he maneuvered her hands and arms into a fighting stance, “you need to be wide and low to the ground. This stance can give you an advantage and eliminate any blind spots.”

Y/N was on a roll with dodging Sam’s hits and kicks, but still ended up needed an ice pack to the eye once it was all said and done. She was also certain he gave her a concussion, but she didn’t tell him that.

Sam and Y/N worked on her moves over the next two weeks but the only thing she gained were bruises in places she never thought she’d get, as well as a new scar on her hand. The only reason Sam passed her onto Dean was because her constantly nagging and whining got on his nerves.

Dean decided to take a crack at training her with their weapons. He showed her the layout of the Impala’s trunk and where everything she would ever need to hunt was, then showed her how to load, unload, and field strip every gun they owned.

Since they were in the middle of nowhere, it was the perfect place to do target practice. He lined up some old coffee tins with painted targets on them and gave her a pistol that served as a backup for Sam and himself.

“Alright,” Dean said as he stood behind Y/N, manipulating her hands to hold the pistol properly. “Finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. You never have your finger there until you’re certain you’re ready to eliminate your target.” He checked to ensure she had a good grip. “Now, holding your weapon like this enforces a good shooting stance.

"Now, a few more tips. Don’t anticipate the shot. It’s gonna be loud, and it’s gonna suck, but if you anticipate it, you’ll tense up and it can throw off your aim. Also, keep both eyes open. You can’t judge distance and depth perception with one eye.”

Y/N nodded as she brought the pistol up in front of her.

“Take a deep breath,” Dean instructed and she complied. “Let it out slowly…whenever you’re ready.”

Y/N took another deep breath before firing the weapon. She hit one of the targets and it fell back off the log it was sitting on. Dean held up his hands to signal he getting in her line of sight. Y/N removed her finger from the trigger and looked on as Dean picked up the tin can.

“Not bad for your first shot!” Dean said with a smile as he brought the can to show her. It had a small bullet hole in the center of the target.

Y/N squealed with excitement, tossed the gun aside and threw her arms around Dean. Dean tried to protest as he wasn’t much of a hugger, but eventually he relented and wrapped his arms around her, smiling.

Dean couldn’t help but notice how…nice…she felt in his arms. She laid her head against his chest as she hugged him, no doubt feeling the thudding beneath his sternum. She was warm, like a cackling fireplace fire on a winter’s night. She was hugging him so tight, the slight thumping of her own heart could be felt against his stomach. He was about to make a comment but she let go, leaving the thoughts hanging in his brain space. He just smiled at her before suggesting going back to more target practice.

—

Later that night, Dean came out of the bathroom, hair still damp from a shower, to find Sam standing in the doorway of Y/N’s room. He was watching her sleep, her breathing even and calm.

“You know if I was anyone else,” Dean whispered, startling Sam slightly, “I’d be calling the cops.”

Sam shot his brother a bitch face before saying, “you get the feeling she’s growing on us?”

Dean pondered his brother’s words, “yeah…the thought occurred.”

“I mean, she’s annoying and she whines and complains more times than she doesn’t, but…it’s nice having her around. She’s a pretty quick learner.”

“Dude, you should’ve seen her shooting. Never held a gun in her life and she shot every one of those cans like she’s been doing it her whole life. I’m actually kinda proud.”

Sam beamed. “Yeah…it might have to do with the height difference, but she couldn’t seem to land a decent blow on me during hand to hand. But she seems to be taking what I taught her to heart.”

“That’s good,” Dean mused, now also watching her sleep. “Because if demons are after her, and given her powers I can see why, she’s gonna need every advantage we can give her. She won’t be alone though.”

Sam nodded before bidding his brother goodnight. Dean took one last look at Y/N as she slept.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He closed the door softly before following Sam to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEVERE ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, DEATH AND DYING, KIDNAPPING

* * *

 

Two months had passed since Y/N was brought to the safe house in Montana. She’d been doing nothing but training and learning hunting skills with the Winchesters. They were clearly too afraid she’d be attacked or taken, so they disallowed her from going into town with them for supply runs. Even a jog through the woods wasn’t permissible. And it was making her antsy.

She thought about calling her neighbor to get an update on Weiss, Blake and Yang. She missed her “daughters” something fierce. She wired some money to her neighbor some time ago because by now, she was certain they’d run out of food and litter. If she wasn’t allowed to spend her own money on things for herself, she may as well continue being their fur-mother from afar.

She was getting better at fighting with Sam, and when she landed a punch to his face, sending his ass to the ground, he praised her like she’d just won the Nobel Peace Prize. She was so ecstatic she threw her arms around him in a big hug, much like she did with Dean. Unlike his older brother, he wasted no time hugging her back, relinquishing her warmth. Later that night when she saw his cheek turning colors, she made him an ice pack.

She had also made marked improvement with her firearm skills. She could field strip every gun in the Impala’s arsenal with her eyes closed. Literally, as she wore a blindfold as she did it, the brothers watching in amazement. Not even Sam or Dean could do that.

But that night, long after the boys had gone to bed, she was climbing the walls with boredom. She longed for a chance to go out and have a drink at a bar, dance to some cool music, maybe even make a friend or two. If it wasn’t so late, and there was a mall within walking distance, she’d be shopping to her heart’s content. She’d been wearing the same clothes over and over again and she wanted a new look. Internet out there was spotty at best and since they were in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t like she could go shopping online. Where would her stuff be delivered? She was still forbidden from leaving the cabin so it’s not like she could open a post office box.

Sitting at the little dining room table, she declared to herself that she’d had enough. “You know what, screw this!”

Changing into her best outfit, she grabbed her purse and double checked to make sure Sam and Dean were still asleep. Their breathing was calm and almost in sync with each other. She smiled at the thought before slipping out the door, making sure it was locked before setting out to find civilization.

After a few minutes of walking, she thought it might’ve been courteous to leave some kind of note, but then she thought about how the last few months have been and decided against it.

“Knowing them,” Y/N said to herself, “one of them will wake up an hour after I left and immediately come find me. Then my fun will be ruined!”

She strolled through the woods, humming a pleasant tune, determined to find a road or distinguishable landmark. But after a half an hour of walking, she realized she was no closer to being out of the woods than when she started. Keeping panic at bay, she took out her cell phone to see if she had signal.

No bars.  _Fuck._

Y/N sighed and continued her walk. Two hours after she’d left, she was still surrounded by dead trees and no lights. She was tired, hungry and irritated.  _How can these woods be so endless?!_ She thought to herself, panting, her breathing audible in the dead silence of the wilderness.

She thought about turning around and going back to the cabin, and begging for Sam and Dean’s forgiveness and they were probably no doubt awake and frantic that she was missing, but when she looked around, a horrifying thought struck her.

“I have no idea where the cabin is.”

Panic gripped Y/N’s heart as she concluded she was truly lost. She’d been so caught up in finding a way out, intent on having a fun night on the town, to pay attention to her surroundings. She took a step in the opposite direction, hoping it was the start of the way back to the cabin.

She didn’t hear or see who or what thwacked her on the back of the head, causing her consciousness to be taken from her.

—

Sam was the first to wake up. Looking at his watch, he saw it was five in the morning. Looking out the window, the sun wasn’t even starting to make its grand entrance, announcing it was morning again. He grumbled, knowing the feeling of being tired but not tired enough to go back to sleep.

So he dragged himself to a sitting position, waited for the morning vertigo to pass, then got up, went to the bathroom, and sauntered out towards the living room.

But he came to a sudden stop in front of Y/N’s room; her empty, fully-made bed woke him up faster than all the coffee on the planet could.

“Y/N?” He said before making a hurried entrance into the living room. He searched all the rooms of the house, even went out towards the back where Dean had set up the shooting range, but no Y/N could be found. Coming back inside, he saw that her purse was missing, as were her keys.

Sam’s heart dropped. Y/N was gone.

He raced back to the bedroom to wake his brother. Dean tried to slap his brother’s hands away but failed.

“Dean get up!” Sam was now rolling his brother onto his back and turning on the lamp on the nightstand. “Y/N’s gone!”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?” Dean grumbled angrily as he tried to shield his eyes from the lamp’s bright lights.

“I mean she left!” Sam exclaimed as he started getting dressed. “She made her bed, took her purse and keys and left. She didn’t leave a note either!”

Dean consciousness was starting to come back and his mind went into hunter mode; he started getting dressed alongside Sam. Without another word, Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala, his dad’s leather jacket and him and Sam dashed out the front door.

“Wait!” Sam exclaimed before he could opened the passenger side door.

“What?” Dean bit back.

“She left on foot,” Sam breathed. “I doubt she took the main road. She probably doesn’t even know where it is.”

“You thinking she took off in the opposite direction?”

“Maybe,” Sam said. He took out his phone to see if he had signal. The single bar on his phone gave him a slight boost of hope. “I turned the GPS tracking on on her cell phone when she was asleep. Just in case. And, for reasons unknown to me, it doesn’t require a signal.”

“So you’re saying we can find her?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Sam fiddled with his phone for a bit before a steady beeping came from it. “According to this, she’s about three miles….northeast of here.”

“So you were right,” Dean said, slipping the car keys into his pocket and following Sam. He felt for the gun against his lower back, tucked in the waistband of his underwear, and let Sam lead the way.

They wandered into the wilderness for as long as it took the sun to rise high above them, Sam’s phone continuing to track the GPS signal like a steady heartbeat. Then, the beeping got stronger and louder. It wasn’t until Dean saw something glistening in the grass that they stopped.

Dean picked up a small stick to poke at the shiny substance.

It was blood.

Sam and Dean exchanged grim, worried looks. Sam noticed there was a trail.

It didn’t take long for the trail to lead them to an abandoned log shack. Sam turned off his phone and both brothers brought their guns out at the ready. But before they could storm inside, they heard crying.

Y/N’s crying.

Guns still drawn, Dean went in first, Sam close behind. Y/N was tied to a chair, a wad of dirty cloth in her mouth, and several bodies laying around her.

Sam leaned down to check the pulse on one of them. The grim expression on his face told Dean that everyone who tried to attack Y/N died.

Dean went to untie Y/N. Sam came up behind, pinching the side of her wrist to feel her pulse.

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked gently, satisfied with the strength and speed of her heart rate. Y/N just shook her head, too stunned to say anything.

Dean resorted to cutting the ropes tied tight around her chest and they fell to the ground. “Can you walk?”

Y/N nodded but took a tentative step to test them out, just in case. They walked closely behind her as they start making the three mile hike back to the house.

But once they arrived, Dean lets loose. He smacks Y/N across the face.

“What the fuck were you thinking, huh?!” Dean shouts. Sam does nothing to help Y/N as he’s just as mad as Dean is. “Do you have any idea how fucking stupid you are?!”

“I needed to get out!” Y/N cried, her hand reaching up to massage her cheek, which had already turned red from the impact of Dean’s hand. “I was bored, and climbing the walls! I had to do something! Don’t sit there and tell me you haven’t done the same!”

“Y/N, we’re not the ones being hunted by demons because of our powers!” It was Sam’s turn to yell. “You could’ve been killed or worse!”

“I’m not your damn charge, you’re not my fucking babysitters! I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself!” Y/N growled.

“Yeah clearly not considering you went and got yourself kidnapped by a bunch of demons!” Dean snarled.

“Fuck you!” Y/N screamed. “I don’t need this shit. I’m gone. Don’t fucking follow.”

Sam made the mistake of stepping in front of her, blocking her path to the door. His voice was calmer as he said, “you can’t leave, Y/N. We’re trying to keep you safe, please understand!”

Y/N looked up at Sam and glared, her eyes starting to glow blue. Sam’s own eyes widened as her hand started glowing the same shade. He didn’t anticipate that hand being shoved into the center of his chest, directly over his heart.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat, unable to escape. As he struggled to breathe, he felt his heart start to beat erratically. The last thing he consciously remembered was Dean yelling as Y/N to stop before his world went black as he collapsed to the floor.

Dean made a move to grab Y/N, but she whipped around to defend herself, her glowing hand outstretched.

“Touch me and you’re next,” she said in a chillingly dark voice. Dean immediately retreated, his hands held palms out in surrender. Y/N’s eyes continued to glow as she kept her hand out. She reached for the Impala’s keys and when she had them, the blue glow of her power diminished as she ran out the front door. As the Impala was started up, the tires peeling out of its parking spot, Dean rushed to Sam’s side.

He pulled out his phone and ripped Sam’s shirt wide open, revealing his bare chest. He punched a few numbers in, placed it on speakerphone and tossed it to his side to confirm Sam had no pulse and wasn’t breathing.

_“911, do you need fire, police or paramedics?”_

“I need paramedics now,” Dean said frantically as he started chest compressions on Sam. “My brother’s heart stopped.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEVERE ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, HOSPITALS, MEDICAL JARGON, COMA, CARDIAC ARREST, GRAND THEFT AUTO? Yeah we’ll go with that

* * *

 

Sam was rushed to a hospital with cardiac specialties an hour away from Whitefish. Dean had no choice but to ride up front while the paramedics tried to save his life. About twenty minutes into the ride, one of the paramedics called out, “we gotta pulse!” Dean almost burst into tears at the sound of that. His baby brother was alive again.

When they finally arrived at the hospital’s emergency department, he ran towards the back as they pulled Sam, stretcher bound, from the ambulance. The sight of him intubated and attached to monitors and IVs shattered what was left of Dean’s heart. They wheeled him inside and he was immediately brought into one of the trauma rooms. Doctors and nurses moved Sam onto their bed using the drawsheet method. The paramedics started rattling off their report, mixed with medical jargon Dean had never heard of, as those same doctors and nurses started cutting off more of Sam’s clothes.

“Patient’s name is Sam Winchester, twenty three year old male, status post cardiac arrest, ROSC about 45 minutes ago, continuous LOC, vital signs are as follows, BP 100 over 50 and holding, heart rate 146 unpaced, intubated respiration at 16, GCS is 3, negative for medical history, allergies, medications or trauma markers…”

One of the doctors called out to Dean as his stethoscope remained on Sam’s chest. “Son, when did this happen?”

With glazed over eyes, Dean looked at the doctor, his voice lethargic. “About two hours ago…he uh…he just dropped. No warning…n-no signs of d-distress…it took the medics a while to find us…we…we were camping at our family cabin…in the woods…”

After the paramedics made Dean sign a release form, none of the medical professionals paid any attention to him as they continued to treat Sam. Someone brought in an ultrasound machine. The lights went out and on the screen, Dean could see Sam’s beating heart.

It was very fast, yet each beat was weaker than the last; it scared him. He focused with all his might on the sound emanating from the machine.  _“He’s alive…Sammy’s alive…I can hear his heart beating…he’s gonna be okay…he’s gonna make it…he’s gonna live…he_ will _live…”_ Over and over he repeated the mantra as they continued to scan for anything that could’ve caused it.

Eventually the machine was put away and Dean was told Sam would be moved to the cardiac wing for continued observation… he was asked if he would follow, but Dean said he needed to call someone.

So he stepped outside, pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number he had memorized many years prior.

“…Dad?” Dean said, tears falling from his face onto the ground. “…I fucked up.”

—

Dean sat beside Sam in a chair, his younger brother’s cold hand in his warmer one. Sam was attached to more life-supporting machines now. The most unnerving thing to Dean was the fact that there was a crash cart on the opposite side of his bed. The fact that they were anticipating Sam’s heart to stop again…he didn’t know what he’d do if it did.

He kept playing the conversation with his dad in his head.

_“What do you mean you fucked up? Where’s Sam?”_

_“That’s just it, Dad…Y/N…tried to leave…she did leave and we found her but she refused to stay put Sam tried to stop her…she…she attacked Sam…stopped his heart. They got him back but… he…he’s on life support right now, Dad…”_

_A pregnant pause followed before John said, “where are you two?”_

_“Uhh…Eureka United Medical Center, in Eureka, Montana. Cardiac wing…fourth floor.”_

_“Okay…Dean, stay with your brother. I’m about six hour out. Anything changes, be it he wakes up or…” John paused. “You call me. I don’t care what it is or what I’m doing…you pick up the phone and call me. You understand?”_

_“Yes sir…but what about Y/N…”_

_“That bitch is the least of my concerns. All I care about is not losing Sammy. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” And with that, John hung up._

Dean was surprised in his dad. He knew without any doubt that his father loved him and Sam, despite all the fights him and Sam had. But for him to drop everything, including a potential hunt, to come to them…even with the circumstances of Sam’s impending death…it surprised him. What did that say about his father, he didn’t know.

And the whole bit about Y/N.  _“That bitch is the least of my concerns.”_ Dean supposed that if it were his son on life support, whoever put him there could wait until he knew his kid pulled through. Maybe that was John motive right now, out of characteristic traits be damned.

He supposed he could agree with the notion. As long as Sam was still unconscious, everything else could wait.

Though through his own pain, Dean was livid.

After all the trouble they’d gone through to protect Y/N, she tried to kill Sam. She left him for dead. And then had the nerve to steal the Impala. In the back of his mind, he worried what condition he would find his Baby once Y/N was found. But that was a problem for another day. If Dean hadn’t know CPR, he might not be sitting here, watching a machine keep his brother breathing.

Though even Dean acknowledged that, in Y/N’s defense, Sam tried to stop her from leaving. Dean knew for a fact that if roles were reversed, and him or Sam had that kind of power and felt threatened, they would do the exact same thing. She was just defending herself. Though he was not making excuses. And any excuses she tried to give, Dean already decided he wasn’t going to have it.

Not when his brother was fighting for his life because of her.

When John finally did show up, the sight of his youngest son in a coma broke him. He slowly approached the side of Sam’s bed, placed a tentative hand over his forehead and carefully kissed Sam’s temple, some of his tears soaking into his hair. It had been a long time since John showed this kind of affection towards Sam. The last time Dean could recall was when a shtriga tried to kill Sam and he had to tell John that he left Sam alone, disobeying a direct order. He remembered holding a much smaller, five year old Sam in his arms, praising whatever God was above them that his son was okay.

As much as Dean was glad John actually showed up to see Sam, he didn’t stay long. He told his older son he had a lead on the demon, told him his usual motto “watch out for Sammy” and left.

Dean really shouldn’t have been surprised, but it hurt all the same.

—

The second the Impala burned rubber on the grass outside the cabin, Y/N knew she was in the deepest shit of her life.

If for nothing else, she’d taken a very dangerous and skilled hunter’s most prized possession: his car. But in reality, there were a number of actions she’d taken that would get her killed. For once, she tried to kill Sam. Even if he wasn’t the badass hunter he was, Sam still had a very protective big brother and his more experienced hunter father probably already putting hits out for her head. Another thing was if Dean was as protective of his car as he was with his brother, a stolen vehicle APB was already out for a very distinct, conspicuous, shiny black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. If the cops every caught up with her, she’d be in real trouble when they discovered the devil’s trap and massive arsenal in the trunk. Who’s to say they won’t pin the contraband on her?

The more miles she drove, the more anxious and scared she became. But the last thing she was gonna do was apologize.

Sam was the one who challenged her. Stood in  _her_ way when she tried to leave. “Protecting” her did not mean keeping her confined against her will. She wasn’t a damn child. She probably made more money with her part time freelancing job than those two saw in a year. But that didn’t matter now. Until proven otherwise, she was a wanted woman with a stolen car.

Eventually, that stolen car ran out of gas, and she  _had_ to stop at a gas station. She almost ditched the car in favor or walking, of maybe even calling Bobby for a ride, praying he hadn’t been in contact with the Winchester recently.

But when she walked in and asked for $40 on one of the pumps, she was surprised the old man behind the counter tried to up-sale her some snacks for the road.

“We’re having a two for one special on candy bars, little lady. And I think we got some of those new crunchy Snickers bars in stock. I personally favor an old fashion Butterfinger myself, but I’m not picky. It’s important to fuel yourself while you’re fueling your car.”

_Doesn’t this guy know I’m a fugitive with a stolen car?_ She thought, but kept her mouth shut. She agreed to the man’s offer and grab a bunch of candy bars, as well as some beef jerky, chips, soda and a few bottles of water.

“Thank you for your patronage, ma'am! Have a blessed day and drive safe!” The old man called out as she was leaving.

If only he knew how ironic that statement sounded to her.

—

Fifteen hours later, and with no other interaction from anymore people, she was pulling into a very familiar yet homey junk yard. She parked the Impala facing the weather front porch, but as she got out, she couldn’t stop the waterworks that had been trying to make its escape for the last five hours of her journey.

She normally would’ve just walked in and announced her presence, but this time, she knocked.

And prayed she wasn’t met with a shotgun to the face.

An older man wearing flannel over a T-shirt, faded blue jeans and a ball cap opened the door, and he was shocked to see her alive.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Uncle Bobby. I… I’m in trouble.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MAJOR ANGST, SLIGHT FLUFF, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, SHOUTING/FIGHTING/ARGUING, FAINTING

* * *

 

Two days after coming to the hospital, Sam started breathing on his own. They removed the tube in his airway and the first breath he took was music to Dean’s ears.

Two more days after that, he was moved out of the cardiac ICU wing and into general observation. Something the doctors said was “rare.”

“93% of the patients who end up in the cardiac wing usually leave in body bags,” Sam’s doctor told them. Dean grimaced and thanked whoever was responsible for him spiritually that Sam wasn’t part of those staggering statistics. Sam just thanked the doctor for saving his life and the doctor left.

After three days of continuous monitoring of Sam’s heart rhythm and other vital signs, he was declared to have a clean bill of health and discharged. Since the Impala’s whereabouts were still unknown, it was up to John to pick up his sons from the hospital.

But not before Sam was given strict instructions.

“I’ve sent a prescription for beta blockers to a pharmacy in town, I want you to pick those up and take them as directed on the package. Also, I’ve put in a request for a Holter monitor for you. I want you to wear it for the next two weeks.”

“A what now?” Dean asked.

“A portable heart monitor,” Sam filled him in, unhappy about the news. “They wanna make sure my heart doesn’t stop again.”

“More like we wanna monitor the rhythm itself,” the doctor filled in. “See, we’re still have no idea what caused you to go into sudden cardiac arrest. It wasn’t any of the obvious factors; you maintain a relatively heart healthy diet and you clearly exercise regularly. Your heart itself is in great shape, athletic. There were no external factors to take into account either. It’s completely unheard of for a young, healthy man such as yourself to just drop with no pulse.”

Sam and Dean kept their words to themselves; if for nothing else, to avoid another lengthy hospital stay. Dean would never tell Sam this but the insurance and credit cards he was using to pay for Sam’s treatment were both declined and flagged for fraud. Anymore activity on them would lead the authorities right to them.

“Well, I appreciate you taking good care of me,” Sam smiled at his doctor, accepting a brochure on the monitor he’d never acquire.

He knew damn well what happened to his heart. And he intended to make the woman who stopped it pay for her actions.

—

Bobby allowed Y/N to stay in the only spare bedroom his house had, but not before she spilled her guts out to him, sobbing all the while.

The older hunter couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed; he was always protective of Y/N. Despite not sharing any blood relation, he still considered her family. Family doesn’t get left behind no matter how badly they fuck up.

As Y/N went up the stairs to sleep for the night, Bobby knew what he had to do. And he knew Y/N was probably going to be very angry with him. But given her actions, there was a good chance that she killed Sam. And if he knew the Winchesters as well as he believed, Dean would already be burning the entire world looking for his brother’s killer.

Bobby grabbed one of the many cell phones he had and slipped outside into the clear Sioux Falls night and dialed a number he felt he should’ve forgotten by now.

_“Winchester,”_ a gruff older voice said on the other line.

“John, it’s Bobby,” the guilt was heavy in his own voice.

_“Bobby! Been a hot minute,”_  John tried to sound cheerful but Bobby could hear the emotion his friend was holding back.  _“How the hell are you?”_

“Not great,” Bobby said, taking a breath before speaking again. “I, uh…I have Y/N here with me at the house. And…she told what she did. Please tell me Sam is alive and she didn’t do what I’m fearing she did.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before another voice came on.

_“Bobby?”_  Sam asked.

Bobby breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Damnit kid, it’s good to hear your voice.”

_“Yeah, same with you,”_  Sam’s smile could be heard in his voice.  _“How you been?”_

“Shit, I should be asking that!” Bobby exclaimed. “How’s the ticker, kiddo?”

Sam chuckled.  _“Pumping like a piston, as it should be.”_

“Well good.”

_“Bobby,”_  Sam said in a serious tone.  _“Is she really there?”_

“Yeah,” Bobby replied. “Came in last night. Tell your brother the Impala doesn’t have a scratch on her. No blood either.”

_“I don’t give a damn about the car, Bobby,”_  Sam ground out.  _“Don’t let her leave. We’re headed your way.”_

“I’d try to talk you outta it, but you’re just as stubborn as your daddy,” Bobby mused, “you’ll just do what you want anyway. I doubt she’s going anywhere. She thinks the cops are coming after her. She hid the car behind the house, took the plates off too.”

_“I don’t really care what she thinks or feels right now, Bobby, she tried to kill me. Almost succeeded too.”_ Sam was angry.  _“We’re about a day’s drive out. Don’t tell her we’re coming either. Please.”_

Bobby sighed. “I won’t. You have my word.”

Bobby heard a scuffle on the line before another voice came on.

_“Bobby, it’s Dean. Where’s my car.”_

“Your damn car is fine, idjit,” Bobby replied, annoyed. “It’s behind the house. Not a scratch or dent on it. Looks like it’s hadn’t been used as a getaway car at all. Verified myself.”

A breath escaped Dean’s lips before he said,  _“Alright.”_

More scuffling was heard before John was back on the phone. The sound of a diesel truck was also heard.  _“Like Sammy said, we’re about a day’s drive out. Probably gonna stop somewhere for the night to sleep. I know tensions are running high but…don’t let her out of your sights, Bobby.”_

“I won’t,” was all Bobby said before the line clicked.

—

To say there was tension in Bobby’s house was an understatement. Everyone was shouting at everyone else. And by everyone, it meant Sam, Dean and John were all yelling at Y/N.

Bobby just stood in the archway between his living room and kitchen as the scene unfolded. He knew he shouldn’t say anything; this wasn’t his fight. But looking at how scared Y/N was, surrounded by tall men all screaming at her, he felt he should at least tell the Winchesters to tone it down. But given the reason for their yelling, he knew she needed to hear this.

Y/N felt so small in her chair. Sam, Dean and John were all taking turns berating her for her actions. John for being careless and running off when she was in very real danger, Dean for taking off with his beloved car, and Sam for nearly killing him. As if she needed to be reminded. She hadn’t slept since she got to her Uncle Bobby’s place three days prior.

“Well?” Dean bellowed. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

She looked up at them all, her eyes glassy with unspent tears. She looked at John, who continued to glare much like Dean was, then at Sam. Of the three of them, he looked more hurt than angry. And it appeared that those feelings brought him much pain. He was absentmindedly rubbing at his sternum, probably to remind himself he still had a heartbeat.

“What do you want me to say?” Y/N said so quietly they almost didn’t hear it. “That I’m sorry? I didn’t mean it? It’ll never happen again?”

“A decent apology would be a good place to start,” Sam said in a normal voice. She looked up at him. His own eyes read with one word: betrayal.

“Honestly…” Y/N began. “I only defended myself. I will never apologies for that. If that’s why you all are yelling at me, so that I’ll say I’m sorry for looking out for myself, then you’ve been wasting your breath.

"The three of you forget that I am an adult and have been living on my own since I was sixteen. I’ve paid my way through life without anyone’s help. And so now, I’m just supposed to hand over that control to a group of strangers because  _they_ feel my life is in danger? Well, I’m sorry but it doesn’t work that way. If you want me to trust you, you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Dean spat. “Trust you?! You tried to kill Sam! You stopped his heart with your hand of death magic!”

“Yes, so I’m told. Thanks for the reminder,” Y/N said dryly.

“You’re in grave danger, Y/N,” John said. “I asked my sons to protect you because something bigger than all of us is coming, and the first thing they want is you dead.”  
“I’d like to remind everyone here that nobody here even knows what is after me nor do any of you know  _why._ Until I get some answers, your babysitting duties are over with. I’ll find my way back to Carmel and we can put all the bullshit behind us.”

A few heartbeats of tense silence passed.

“I do know,” John said.

Everyone’s heads whipped around to look at him.

“I’ve known all along what’s coming for you. For all of us.”

Sam angrily got into his father’s face. “If you’d told us that from the start, this might not have happened. I almost died because you withheld information! Again!”

“It wasn’t the right time, son,” John replied exasperatedly. “What happened was an unfortunately accident-”

“Great way to justify my subsequent heart attack-”

“But I needed to keep certain elements of this case close to the chest. Please son, you have to understand. There are so many things after us right now and they’re always watching. Demons are the least of our concerns and I do not say that lightly. I never know who’s going to be following me, or you, until it’s too late. Too many people have died because information was slipped too soon.”

Sam remained quiet and took a step back, his heavy breaths only audible to himself.

“Okay, so spill,” Y/N said, standing up. “What exactly are we dealing with.”

John took a breath and gave each person in the house a look before speaking again.

“The demon that killed your mother,” he looked between Sam and Dean, then back at Sam, “and Jessica.”

Everyone blinked.

“ _The_ demon?” Sam asked for clarification.

“The exact same one. It knows I’m after it. It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it and send it back to Hell, but actually kill it.”

About ten seconds passed before John said more.

“And you are the only one with the power to do such a thing,” John pointed at Y/N.

The only that was heard was the sound of Y/N collapsing to the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEVERE ANGST, LOTS OF DEATH AND DYING, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF CARNAGE AND DESTRUCTION, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

* * *

 

If Sam hadn’t been watching Y/N when she collapsed, he wouldn’t have been able to catch her before she cracked her skull open on the wall behind her.

He cradled her in one of his arms, the other hand trying to stir her awake. A few light smacks to her face got her to open her eyes a bit.

Dean could also be seen in her line of vision. Bobby brought a glass of water for her to drink. Sam sat her up and took the water from Bobby, bringing it to her lips and allowing her to sip it slowly.

When the water was a quarter of the way gone, Sam helped her sit up on her own and eventually let go.

“Deep breaths,” Sam said softly. “You’re alright.”

“I think it’s time for the whiskey,” Bobby said and nobody dissuaded him from pulling out a fancy bottle filled halfway with amber colored liquid. He took our five tumblers for everyone and began pouring. Y/N declined hers for the time being, but kept the glass nearby.

“So,” Y/N said, sipping the water on her own now, “this demon…tell me everything you know.”

John exchanged glances with his sons before taking a deep breath and saying, “on November 2, 1983, six months to the day Sam was born, Mary, my wife and their mother, went to go check on Sam in his nursery. I guess she thought she heard him crying. It wasn’t long before I heard her screaming. I ran into Sam’s nursery to find him unharmed, but…” John choked back his words.

“Our mom was pinned to the ceiling, bleeding heavily from her gut,” Dean finished. “Her body caught fire…at the time, I was only four, but Dad brought Sam to me and told me to take him outside. Dad barely made it out of the house in time before the bedroom blew up…whatever put Mom there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

Y/N had a look of sympathy on her face as she looked at Sam. Nothing but grief and unspent tears shone in his eyes. It was clear to Y/N that he felt responsible for his mother’s death, despite only being an infant.

“I’ve spent Sam’s entire lifetime trying to exact the revenge we, as well as other families as we weren’t the first, deserve,” John said, “and now, I’m closer to this fucker than I ever been.”

“Didn’t make for a great childhood-” Dean started.

“Fucking understatement-” Sam interrupted bitterly.

“But we’re capable of ending things that people think are just nightmares.” Dean sighed.

“I know the job description of a hunter, thank you very much,” Y/N replied, clearly over this conversation.

“So,” John went on, “now that you know what we’re up against…will you help us? Please help us finish this fight. It’s gone on for way too long and I’d like to end it so my boys can go on with their lives.”

“I’m never going to get on with my life,” Dean said. All eyes turned towards him. “This fight is never gonna be over. There’s always gonna be something to hunt, Dad. You know it. Just because the big bad takes a dirt nap doesn’t mean something bigger and nastier isn’t going to take its place. Maybe Sam will be able to go back to school or whatever, or maybe Dad can go get a job at a garage again, but this life…it’s all I have.”

Silence fell over the group. Y/N took a breath.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, standing up to take the glass of whiskey. “You’ve got a score to settle. And it’s a bad son of a bitch. I understand the need for vengeance. How is this  _my_ problem?”

All three Winchesters gave her a shocked look. Bobby remained stoic; he knew this was exactly how his niece was going to react.  _Y/N was always independent,_ he thought.  _She may say she gets needed vengeance, but she doesn’t know the first thing about how to deal with losing a loved one._

“I mean,” Y/N went on, “this demon, or whatever, has never crossed paths with me, never done me any harm, so, again I’ll ask. How the hell is this my problem? Why should I be used as nothing more than a tool for your gain?”

None of the Winchesters spoke.

“What’s in it for me? What will I get out of this, if I help you? And don’t say ‘peace of mind’ because I had that before you two came to my door.” She pointed between Sam and Dean.

Y/N looked at Bobby. “Anything you wanna add, Uncle?”

Bobby shook his head. “No, you pretty much said what I figured you’d say.”

“What the hell does that mean?” John demanded.

“John, I told you from the getgo not to bother Y/N and this is why. I said, and I quote, 'she not the answer to your problems’. But you disturbed her life anyway. So, hate to say 'I told you so,’ but…”

Y/N looked back at Sam and Dean, who seemed to have taken a great deal of interest in the dog hair embedded in the rug. “Sam? Dean?”

Both looked up at her.

“If this is about revenge for your family, what am I? Is that all you see in me? Not a woman, but a tool?”

Sam opened his mouth but promptly closed it again. Dean didn’t make eye contact with her at all. Y/N let out a frustrated sigh.

“Well, this has been fun, really it has. But I have three furry little girls who miss their momma back in Indiana. I’m calling a cab and I’m going home.”

She made her way to the front door, but not before tossing Dean the keys to the Impala.

“The license plates are in the trunk. Good luck with your vengeance, or whatever.”

Without another word from the men, Y/N stepped out and started walking. When she reached the main road, she pulled out her cell phone and called for a cab, paying them extra to take her all the way back home.

—

The cab driver that picked her up was all too happy to take the last remaining amount of money Y/N had left in her bank account to drive her the eleven or so hours back to her house in Carmel, Indiana. She knew it was going to be late when she got back so she decided to wait til the morning to pick up Weiss, Blake and Yang from her neighbor’s house.

And sure enough, around two o'clock in the morning, the cabbie was pulling into her neighborhood. But when the car turned onto her street, the cabbie slammed on the brakes, waking Y/N from her nap.

“Holy mother of god,” the older woman breathed.

When Y/N looked out the window, she was met with utter chaos and carnage.

Every single house was either on fire or already burned to the ground.

Including her own.

There were bodies all over the road. Some still clinging to life. Others forever stilled. Those who weren’t dead were crawling around like a scene from every zombie apocalypse movie and TV show she’d ever seen.

Y/N bade the cab driver a final farewell, threw a few more twenties her direction, and demanded she go back to Sioux Falls. As she was pulling out her phone to call 911, she came up to her her neighbor’s house and saw it completely engulfed in flames.

And her neighbor was burned beyond recognition in the front yard.

She knew, without any doubt, that her beloved cats were dead.

Her house was no longer standing; nothing was left except for a few charred pieces of the interior walls.

Y/N’s life was over. Her home, her children, her neighbors, her community. Everyone and everything she knew and loved was either dead or dying in the massive block-wide inferno.

So she did the only thing she could do.

She dropped to her knees and cried. Cried and sobbed loudly, not caring if anyone heard or saw her, for her losses.

In her grief, she didn’t hear the rumble of the Winchesters’ Impala rounding the corner.

Sam and Dean took in the carnage around them. Neither of them breathed a word as their eyes desperately searched for Y/N.

“Look,” Sam finally said, pointing directly in front of him.

Sam was out of the car and running as fast as his long legs could take him before Dean fully stopped the car.

He came up from behind Y/N and wrapped his arms around her. By now, Y/N knew Sam’s scent. A vanilla musk mixture of dark roast coffee and sandalwood. She knew she didn’t deserve his comfort after all she did to him, but right now, she welcomed his touch. She placed her hands over the hands that were encompassing her chest. Feeling his heart beating against her back made her cry even harder.

Dean eventually walked up with none of the contempt and anger he’d held in his eyes towards her only half a day before. Those forest green orbs only held sadness and sympathy.

“No survivors,” was all he managed to say. And to no one in particular. “Anyone that could be physically checked for a pulse…doesn’t have one…”

Sam didn’t say anything. He just kept holding Y/N as she wept.

“I’ll help,” she finally said.

Sam loosened his grip around her to face her. “Are you sure? You can still say no.”

“We won’t be mad,” Dean chimed in. “Promise.”

Y/N looked between them. And the hurt in her eyes broke their hearts.

“I have nothing left. My home is gone. My girls…” she stiffed a cry to keep talking, “everything I ever had is gone. Now, this fight is just as personal for me as it is for you. Just…whatever you need from me…you’ll have it.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, SLIGHT FLUFF, CAR ACCIDENT, DEATH AND DYING, KIDNAPPING, SLIGHT CODA TO 02X01 “IN MY TIME OF DYING”

* * *

 

Dean drove through the night without stopping as Sam and Y/N slept in the backseat. At some point, Y/N used Sam’s chest as a pillow. Something Sam couldn’t bring himself to reject.

Part of Sam wanted to be spiteful, letting Y/N lay on him. He wanted her to hear his heart. Listen to it beat strong and steady; as a reminder of what she tried to take away. But he was too kindhearted to be spiteful. There was no point in getting angry about the past. He was alive and he had no intention of dying anytime soon. So he offered her something he could without spite: his kindness. She needed it more than ever now.

John and Bobby were waiting for the three of them when the Impala pulled into the Singer’s Salvage Yard around three in the afternoon. Y/N was still asleep, so Sam carried her into the house. Dean carried her purse inside and everyone sat at the dining room table.

“So,” Dean said after everyone had a drink in their hand, “Y/N’s officially in. What we do now?”

“I gotta lead in Salvation, Iowa,” John said. “The same pattern that precedes the demon’s arrival has been cropping up. I have a strong feeling that’s where he’s gonna strike next.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bobby said. “I’ll go wake Y/N.”

“No,” Sam said. Everyone looked at him. “She’s been through a lot in the last 24 hours. Let her sleep for now. When she’s rested, then we’ll head out.”

A pregnant pause passed between the men before John said, “I think we could all use some rest. Big fight ahead of us.”

Sam and Dean nodded, and everyone dispersed.

—

The Winchester boys spent time making sure their arsenal was ready for war, Bobby took to making enough food for everyone to eat tonight and on the road, and John took a nap himself. Y/N never woke up that night.

But when the sun started to rise, she felt like she was a whole new person. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept that well. When she went downstairs after showering and dressing, there was a hot pot of coffee, eggs, hash-browns, bacon and toast waiting for her.

“Morning, sunshine!” Dean exclaimed.

“Good morning,” Y/N replied with a small smile, accepting the cup of coffee Sam poured for her with a nod.

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” Bobby asked, sitting next to Sam at his table.

“I’m good,” Y/N said, taking a sip of the coffee. She moaned pleasurably at the taste. “And with this, I can only get better.”

Bobby chuckled as John came into the room smelling like freshly cleaned linen.

“Eat up,” John said. “All three of you. You’re gonna need your strength for this fight.”

Sam and Dean took the time to give Y/N the details from the previous day. She agreed it was the best course of action. The sooner they got this done, the better the Winchesters could move on and she could start rebuilding her life.

They all agreed it was best to take the Impala, so John left his truck at Bobby’s. They waved goodbye to him as the old muscle car pulled out of the Singer Salvage Yard.

“So, I have to get close enough to touch him to do my thing,” Y/N said. She was sitting directly behind John, and Dean was seated right behind Sam, who was driving. “As far as intent, that shouldn’t be a problem considering it decimated my entire block to its foundation.”

Dean and Sam both looked as a tear snaked its way down from her eye to her chin. Dean reached out to wipe it away. Sam gave her a small, sympathetic smile from the rear-view mirror, though on the inside, Dean’s action sparked a small fire of jealously in his belly. He brought his eyes back to the road.

“So, just like that?” John asked, twisting his body to look at Y/N. “You just touch them and…they die?”

“Well,” Y/N said, exhaling, “it takes some will, and a genuine desire to do hard. I can’t be forced use my ability. I have to want to hurt someone. People can give me pros and cons about  _why_ I should do it, but ultimately, I have to decide.”

“Is it instantaneous?” John asked. “Or does it take time? I mean, how much of a window do we have before the demon strikes back?”

“It starts as a burning sensation,” Sam replied in a small voice. Everyone’s attention was on him now. “Like fire that was just started, and it grows…until…well…”

Sam looked into the mirror again at Y/N, who lowered her gaze in shame.

“Hey,” Sam called out, causing Y/N to meet his eyes. “I already forgave you. Don’t stress out about it. If I’m being honest, my heart’s beating stronger than it was before.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad about it.” Y/N couldn’t look at him longer than a second. “I almost killed you.”

“Well to be fair, you were defending yourself, and we weren’t making it easy,” Dean chimed in, causing Y/N to whip her head towards him. His eyes held understanding in them, which made her relax. “We get it. Sammy’s right though. It’s in the past. Let’s move forward. Let’s put our anger and emotions towards killing this damn thing.”

“How much further unt-”

Y/N didn’t finish her statement because an 18-wheeler slammed into the side of the Impala, pushing it off the road and into a ditch. All four occupants were rendered badly hurt and unconscious as the driver of the truck got out, black eyes smiling wickedly.

—

Y/N was the first to awake as the man who hit them ripped the back passenger side door off its hinges. She held out her hand with effort and spoke with a strain.

“Get back, or I swear to God I’ll kill you,” Y/N grunted, her hand and eyes glowing with her signature power.

“I’m not the one you’re after,” the man said. “I’m just a pawn. I’d save that power for the one you really want.”

Her hand grew brighter, pulsing with energy.

“Wanna bet?”

The man stared at her intensely before screaming into the night’s sky, black smoke billowing out from his mouth.

Y/N dropped her hand as the man came to his senses and realized the horror he caused.

“Sam?” Y/N called out, but got no answer. She couldn’t move as John seat was crushing her legs. “Dean? John? GUYS!!!”

The last word she screamed took the rest of her energy, and consciousness with it. She wouldn’t remember her and the boys being flown by emergency helicopter to the nearest hospital.

—

Sam was the only one who was able to walk out of the emergency department relatively unharmed. His left eye was swollen shut but he had no broken bones or head injuries. So he was given a clean bill of health, and a prescription for pain in case he needed it, and he made his way to find his family.

At this point, he considered Y/N family. Actually he considered her more than that, but the last thing either of them needed was to start something…romantic. It pained Sam’s heart to keep his growing feelings for her to himself, but they had a job to do. And at this point, they’d taken a few steps back in their quest for vengeance.

Sam made a call to Bobby already to come pick up the Impala and take it back to his place before the cops discovered what was in the trunk. With that out of the way, he decided to find Y/N first. When he did, he initially grimaced.

The only thing she had was a broken leg, cast up and hung in a sling from the ceiling. Her head was bandaged up, and she had an IV with fluids going, but other than that, she looked okay,

“Hey,” Y/N said as Sam walked in.

“Hey yourself,” Sam said, sitting on the edge of her bed. Y/N turned off the small television mounted to the opposite side of her bed and gave Sam her full attention. “How bad is it?”

“Oh I’m fine,” Y/N said with a smile. “Doctor said no concussion or internal bleeding.”

A paused hung between them.

“What about Dean? Or your dad?”

Sam sighed. “Dad’s okay. Broken arm but other than, he’s fine…I haven’t seen Dean yet.”

“Well then go see him!” Y/N nudged Sam in the arm. “Knowing him, he’s pretty anxious to see you.”

Sam smiled before leaving the room. He walked down the hall and around the corner to where Dean’s room was.

And his heart dropped at the sight.

Dean was hooked up to every life-sustaining machine the hospital had. When the doctor walked in, Sam was told there was a good chance his brother would never wake up. The doctor left him alone with Dean. When he knew the older man was out of sight, Sam got on his knees, shoved his face into the side of Dean’s bed and wept silently.

—

John knew what he had to do. There was no way he was getting out of this fight alive, so he figured the best way was to not fight at all.

He was tired.  _So_ damn tired. He was tired of being a hunter. He was tired of having to scam hard working people out of their money to survive. He was tired of missing Mary. He was tired of his sons not having their mother. Tired of fighting with Sam over everything. Tired of watching Dean be a mother, father and brother to Sam. Tired of watching Dean turn into the man he had become. And he was tired of being afraid of losing one of both of them.

Especially now since Dean was on life support. He’d had another fight with Sam about it.  _“Your son is dying and you’re worried about the demon?!”_  With the last words Sam told him, he knew “going to hell” was where he would end up anyway.

Despite another broken promise to his youngest son, he made his way to the basement to summon the demon himself to bargain.

He needed to see Dean alive and healthy one last time before his time was up.

John never anticipated what the demon wanted in return.

—

Sam eventually fell asleep at Dean’s bedside. Y/N walked in and saw this, and it broke her heart. She walked quietly toward the younger Winchester brother and saw the spent tears covering his cheeks. She grabbed a small towels from a drawer in the room and dabbed his face. This startled him awake.

But both of them were on full alert when Dean started choking on his endotracheal tube.

“HELP!” Sam cried out. “WE NEED HELP!”

The doctors and nurses rushed into the room to assist. Sam and Y/N stepped out of the way to give them room to work. They started by removing the tube from Dean’s throat, and the doctor examined him.

“This is unbelievable,” the doctor said, listening to Dean’s heart and lungs.

“What is?” Sam said, taking a cautious step towards them. Y/N was right behind him.

“I can’t explain it,” the doctor exclaimed. “The edema has vanished, the contusions are healed, and your vitals are good.” He looked up at Sam and Y/N. “He’s got some kind of angel watching over you.” He hung the chart back up and walked out, leaving the three of them alone.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Dean said, his voice a bit raw from the intubation. “I was on life support right?” Y/N nodded. “Then how…guys something’s wrong…”

“Here,” Y/N offered, “why don’t I got get everyone some coffee? I think we’ve all earned that much.”

“Thank you,” Sam smiled at her and she dashed off. Dean noticed the lingering look Sam had on his face as she left.

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Be honest with me,” Dean began as Sam sat on the edge of his bed again. “Do you like her?”

Sam wanted to say something sarcastic, or brush it off, but he couldn’t bring himself to do either. He sighed and looked at Dean, “yeah…yeah I do…”

“Hmm…”

“What?” Sam gave Dean a look, and instantly recognized the look on his face. “You like her too, don’t you?”

Dean looked out the door to ensure Y/N was gone. “I can’t shake it, but yeah…every time she’s around… all I wanna do is kiss her.”

Sam smiled to himself. “Yeah… me too. I mean, after we got passed the whole heart-stopping incident, there was a look in her eyes. Of true remorse and regret. If she really wanted me dead, she would’ve tried it again and it wouldn’t have matter if it was in a room full of people. Plus…she’s nice to look at. I won’t deny it. But she’s smart, too, you know?”

“Sammy’s gotta thing for the nerd,” Dean mused, causing Sam to glare at him. It only made Dean chuckle. “You think she’s noticed?”

“Would it matter? No offense but she can’t exactly pick both of us.”

“Why not?”

That caught Sam off guard. “That…is a good question…”

Dean laughed louder this time. “Never been in it with more than one partner, have you?”

“Dude,” Sam mused, “if I’m gonna share her with you, you better be willing to share back.”

“In all honesty,” Dean sighed, “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around coming back from near death. Polyamorous love is kinda on the back burner.” Sam chuckled at that as Dean looked around. “There’s one face I haven’t seen yet. Where’s Dad?”

“I don’t know,” Sam replied, stretching his neck out to see, “I haven’t seen him in a few hours.”

“Come to think of it,” Dean began, “shouldn’t Y/N have brought back coffee by now?” As he was talking, a nurse came in to have him sign his discharge paperwork. He signed them, and got dressed.

“Yeah she should have,” Sam said, getting anxious. “We should go find them both.”

“Okay,” Dean said as he was buttoning the last button on his flannel before throwing his father’s old leather jacket on. “You go find Dad, and I’ll go find Y/N.”

Sam nodded and they both went their separate ways. Sam figured it was best to start with John’s hospital room. When he got there, the sight of his father dead on the floor stopped his world.

Dean made his way towards the hospital’s cafeteria, but before he could get there, chaos had erupted. People were screaming and shouting as they ran and the place was being flooded with hospital security and police officers. He fished out his faux FBI badge and made his way through the crowd.

“FBI, what happened here?” Dean said to the woman working the cashier counter.

“A girl came in to get coffee, and then there was a loud bang and a flash of light and she was gone!”

“A girl?” Dean asked. “Did she happen to have Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes?”

“Y-Yeah,” the woman replied shakily. “How did you know?”

Dean didn’t respond. He looked over towards the officers investigating a blackened spot on the floor among a few spilled coffees. He flashed his badge to get in front of them, and saw a bunch of powder surrounding it. He fingered a spec of it and sniffed, immediately grimacing his face.

Sulfur.

Dean was running back towards Sam when he saw his brother standing just outside a hospital room, crying.

Before Dean could ask what was wrong, he heard the familiar sounds of a patient being resuscitated. When he looked further, he saw his father lying supine on the bed, chest exposed, unbreathing.

“Dad?” Dean whispered. But no one heard him.

“Stop compressions,” the doctor said. “Time of death. 10:41 AM.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: HEAVY ANGST, HUNTER’S FUNERAL, KIDNAPPING/MISSING PERSONS, LANGUAGE

* * *

 

John Winchester’s six foot frame, wrapped in tied-up linen, burned high into the sky on a pyre built by his sons.

Both young men, with tears flowing freely from their eyes, could only watch as the last blood relative was laid to rest. Neither of them imagined their father would go out like this. Sam always figured as a kid, whatever monster they were hunting would gank him. Dean imagine going down with him on said hunt. But for him to die with no explanation…it puzzled them in their grief.

And then there’s the issue of Y/N being missing. Sam was certain; the demon they’d been hunting their whole lives had something to do with it.

Which meant that it had a hand in their father’s untimely, mysterious death.

The Winchesters stayed long enough for their father’s corpse to turn into glowing embers of ash before jumping back into a car they had stolen from the hospital parking lot and hitting the road to the only other person who could help them.

Bobby Singer.

The old man was sitting at his dining room table, sipping a tumbler of whiskey, when a knock on his door broke him from his thoughts.

Opening his front door and meeting Sam and Dean’s sunken shoulders and cried-out eyes told him all he needed to know.

John Winchester was dead.

And the fact that Y/N wasn’t with them meant she was in big trouble.

He opened the door wider for the tall young men to step inside, closing and locking it behind them. He poured them both a glass of the amber colored liquor he was enjoying and handed it to them. Both men downed the glasses in one gulp.

The older hunter sighed and went to fetch an unopened bottle. It was going to be a long night.

—

Bobby made the boys his famous “trash can stew” which was really just a collection of meat, potatoes and hearty vegetables mixed with spices, gravy and broth. Given all they’d been through, he figured they’d worked up an appetite, but it didn’t surprise him that neither man asked for seconds.

“Alright,” was the first word Bobby spoke since letting Sam and Dean into his home. “What do we do now?”

A long pause passed before Dean spoke up.

“I honestly don’t know,” he breathed, sipping his water silently.

Sam proceeded to tell Bobby about what transpired after he’d asked him to tow the Impala to the house.  Bobby sighed heavily.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we…” Sam let the words die on his lips in a choke of emotion. He couldn’t say aloud that he’d just burned his father’s body mere hours before. Not yet. “It’s too much of a coincidence that Dad…you know…and Y/N has suddenly gone missing. According to people at the food court, she was getting coffee and then just poof, disappeared. And there was sulfur on ground near all the spilled coffee.”

“You’re thinking the demon,” Bobby stated instead of asking. Sam just nodded without looking at him.

Bobby got up from his seat at the table, rinsed off his dishes in the sink and went to his desk in the living room. Dean didn’t look up, preferring to stare at the empty bottom of his tumbler, but Sam’s eyes followed Bobby.

Bobby pulled out some books and what looked like a photo album from inside one of the desk drawers. He flipped through them and pulled out a photograph with writing on the back. Sam got up from his chair.

“I may have a contact who would be willing to help,” Bobby said. He showed Sam an aging photograph of an older woman with long brown hair, a woman who looked younger than Sam with equally long blonde hair, Bobby and a guy that looked like he was part of a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie group.

“Who are they?” Sam inquired.

“That’s Ellen and Jo Harvelle,” Bobby pointed to the women, “Jo’s old man, Bill, Ellen’s late husband, was a hunter. Good man; died on the job, as you might expect. The hippie is the acquaintance you need to seek out. His name is Ash. Don’t let his appearance fool you. He’s a goddamn genius.”

At this point, Dean had joined them and was looking over Sam’s shoulder at the photograph. He took it from Bobby to study it up close.

“Where are they at?” Dean asked.

“Ellen runs a saloon called ‘Harvelle’s Roadhouse.’ It’s a regular stop for hunters in the area, just outside the Kansas-Nebraska border. More times than not, they’ll be there. Ash doesn’t drive and has his own room at the bar. Tell them I sent you. If they have any question, have Ellen give me a call.”

Sam and Dean nodded. Though Sam didn’t know what Ash could do to help them find Y/N, but all Dean could see was a potential lead.

They packed up their stuff, loaded up the Impala, and headed towards Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

—

Walking through the front doors of the Roadhouse had the Winchester brothers on edge. It was dark, no lights or any signs of life could be immediately seen.

But that was before they meandered towards where the pool tables were set up and saw a man with a weird haircut laying on his side on the pool table, passed out.

“Hey buddy?” Sam called out to the man, but he didn’t stir.

It wasn’t until they went to check out the rest of the place that they were met with barrels of guns to their heads.

They didn’t have to introduce themselves as they called out for each other. The older woman, whom they presumed was Ellen Harvelle, recognized their names.

The women disarmed themselves and offered them a seat at the bar, drinks and food on the house.

“So,” Ellen started as she poured herself a glass of water. “You’re looking for a woman named Y/N?”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “We think the demon that our family’s been after our whole lives has something to do with her disappearance.”

“Well I know your dad was working on finding that son of a bitch,” Ellen mused. “How’s that old fart doing anyway? Haven’t seen him in years.”

Sam and Dean both averted their eyes, hooded with grief. Ellen caught on.

“I’m so sorry,” she cooed with genuine sympathy. Sam and Dean nodded, still avoiding her gaze. “Well, in all honesty, we can’t help you. But Ash can.”

“He’s kinda why we’re here,” Dean piped up. “Bobby Singer sent us to him.”

“How’s he doing?” Ellen asked.

“Alive,” Dean mused. “But same old same old, I guess.”

“That’s to be expected,” Ellen said, then turned her head to face behind Sam and Dean. “ASH!”

The man lying semi-prone on the pool table jerked awake.

“Huh? Wha?!” Ash grunted. “Closing time?”

Sam did a double take. “That’s Ash?”

“Mhm,” Jo muttered, finally finding her voice. “He’s a genius.”

“So we’ve heard,” Dean said.

Ten minutes later, Ash had brought out a clearly homemade computer-laptop hybrid and powered it on. Sam looked on with wild eyes in fascination.

“You built that?” He asked.

“With my own two hands,” Ash mused, “and maybe a few toes.” Dean snorted.

Sam pulled out a picture of Y/N. “This is the girl we’re looking for. She…we were supposed to protect her with our lives. According to our dad.”

“Why’s that?” Ash inquired.

“Because she can kill anything with a single touch,” Dean replied.

“No way,” Ash scoffed. “That’s not possible unless she’s another supernatural monster.”

“She’s fully human, we assure you,” Dean said. “And her power is real.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ash said, still not convinced.

Dean looked at Sam, and Sam lifted up his shirt to show his chest, covered in bruises from chest compressions and marking where he’d been defibrillated.

“She stopped my heart with her hand,” Sam grimly enlightened. “I just got out of the hospital a few days ago. Spent a week there. Doctors didn’t think I would make it. And they still have no idea what stopped it to begin with. Not like I was planning on telling them. Best to keep them in the dark.”

Dean handed Ash the EKG reading that displayed Sam’s heart rhythm shortly after being brought back. Anyone other than a trained medical professional could read the little squiggles on the grid paper, but Dean was betting Ash could see what they meant.

“Oh yeah,” Ash mused slowly, tracing over the lines on the paper. “ROSC signature…slight V-tach there…NSR…damn! She got you good!” Ash handed the paper back to Dean as Sam just nodded, feeling rather exposed.

Dean cleared his throat. “So. Can you help us out?”

Ash mulled over the information and typed some things into his computer. “Give me 24 hours. I’ll have a trail for you.”

—

Ellen offered the boys a room for the night, which Sam and Dean gladly accepted. She also mentioned that the food and drinks were still on the house. They offered to pay for it, but she refused to take their money.

“John was like family once,” she said. “He was a good hunter. I can tell he’s raised you well in this life.”

Dean for once got some decent sleep that night. Sam however tossed and turned all night, his mind unable to settle.

Dreams of Y/N being tortured in Hell were seared in his brain. By the time he woke up, sweating profusely and heart racing, he gave up on sleep. Wandering towards the main area of the Roadhouse, he saw that Ellen was up.

“Early riser?” Sam muttered as he took a seat at the bar.

“Sleep was never my friend before my Bill died,” Ellen replied, setting a glass of water in front of him. “But after…well, I don’t bother fighting it anymore. I sleep when I can. Jo helps around a lot when I do manage to catch a few hours.”

“That’s good of her,” Sam muttered, taking another sip of his water.

A comfortable silence loomed in the air between the young hunter and widow. Then Ellen spoke up.

“Y/N…I’m guessing she’s in it pretty deep if you two are looking for her.”

Sam just nodded, not sure what else to say.

“You care about her…” Sam looked up at Ellen, who just eyed him with a kind smile. “I can tell.”

“How?”

“'Cause I used to have the same dewy-eyed look whenever I thought about Bill. Still do sometimes. I loved that man with all my heart. Part of me died with him. Don’t mind me, son. I’m a widow who’s long lost her mind.”

Sam chuckled, but pondered on her words.

Dean was just walking in when Sam finished his water.

“Morning, sunshine,” Sam drawled. “You look rather chipper.”

“Man, I hadn’t slept that well in…fuck, I don’t know how long. I’m ready to hunt!”

“Well choke down some breakfast before you go, at least,” Ellen called out, bringing them both a plate full of eggs, bacon, sausage links, hash-brown and two glasses of orange juice to complete it.“

"Ellen,” Sam began, “you gotta let us pay you  _something_ for this. Between Dean and myself, we could easily eat you out of bar and home.”

“So can every other hunter who walks through those doors. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I won’t take a dime from you.”

Sam knew he wouldn’t win this fight, so he just ate his meal in silence. And it was  _good._

Dean apparently agreed since he could be heard moaning with every bite he took.

“You’re more than welcome to take your plate back to your room if you need some time alone,” Ellen mused, causing Sam to choke on a sausage link with laughter. Dean just glared at his brother, and gave Ellen a sheepish grin. Ellen chuckled at the sight.

“Buenos dias, compadres!” Ash bellowed as he walked into the dining area of the bar, homemade laptop in one hand.

Ash went over the details of what he’d found. He told Sam and Dean that he used the omens and signs that normally appeared before the demon did to track his location, which would be in Cold Oak, South Dakota.

Sam and Dean thanked everyone for their hospitality, and Ash for his information and they left. But not before Dean snuck a few twenties onto the table underneath his now-empty plate.

—

It wasn’t hard to find Cold Oak, South Dakota as there were a trail of bodies leading to the center of what was now essentially a ghost town.

Sam and Dean slowly got out of the car, closing the door as softly as they could, and armed themselves. Without Y/N, they were more or less defenseless if the demon was here.

So they went with their usual standing protocols. Dean would take the lead, Sam would watch his back, and they’d search the place top to bottom until they found their target.

It didn’t take long to look. And what they saw made their hearts drop simultaneously.

“Sam! Dean! Good to finally see you in person! And Sammy, oh man, have you grown!”

The demon had taken an older man with light, slightly graying hair and cleft chin, as a meatsuit. His eyes were the signature yellow.

And Y/N was standing right in front of him, her eyes void of all things…human.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat.

“What have you done to her?” Sam’s voice was dark and cold, his eyes attempting to pierce right through Yellow-Eyes.

“Why, Sammy, can’t you tell? I made her into exactly what I needed! A killing machine. Without all that meddlesome human attachment.”

Sam and Dean’s eyes dropped slowly towards Y/N’s lifeless ones. They were dull, unable to hold the usual Y/E/C spark they once had. Sam studied her form closer, and made a startling discovery.

“She’s not breathing.”

“Well,  _duh,_ ” Yellow Eyes mused, rolling his eyes. “Machines don’t function like humans do. And you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

But Dean wasn’t paying attention to the obvious jab at his intelligence level. He was trying to solve a puzzle in his head.

“That’s it,” Dean whispered.

“What?” Sam whispered back, making sure the demon couldn’t hear him.

“Y/N’s under a trance right? It has to be a spell. Which means that if we can break it-”

“We can get her back.”

“And if we get her back-”

“Bingo.”

“But how do we break it?”

“You know how.”

More silent communication passed between them, but if they hadn’t looked up in time, they would’ve missed Y/N raising her hands unceremoniously to strike them with her power, her eyes glowing an evil shade of yellow. Her power was now the demon’s to control.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, LANGUAGE, DEATH/DYING, FAINTING

* * *

 

Realizing their were clearly out-matched, in both weaponry and wits, Sam and Dean retreated to the Impala. They sped away as fast as her wheels and engine could take them, and made a beeline back to Bobby’s house.

“Well this turned out great,” Dean grumbled loudly, slamming his hand against the Impala’s steering wheel in anger as he drove. “Any ideas for a plan B, college boy?”

Sam just sat in silence, biting the side of his thumb. He was trying to put his brain to work, but no ideas came up. If his father hadn’t been so keen on keeping them in the dark for so long, he might have had another idea. But Y/N  _was_ their idea. She was the only weapon they had against the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

And now she was his. And they were, more or less, left defenseless.

“Let’s just get to Bobby’s and see what he can do,” was all Sam said before letting the roar of the Impala’s engine filled the air space. Dean just focused on the road, not saying anything more himself.

—

“Fucking hell,” Bobby said slowly, rubbing a hand across his bearded chin. “Well, you were right Sam. He had her all along. And he’s behind her disappearance.”

Neither broke responded, just nodded their heads.

“If your damn idjit of a dad hasn’t-”

“Look as much as I’m pissed at the guy too,” Sam interjected, “there’s nothing we can do about that. Should Dad have given us more intel? Yes. Does it suck that he’s not here to help? Of course it does. But we need to concentrate on the here and now. Do we have  _anything_  that could be used against this thing?”

Bobby and Dean sat silent. Sam sighed, letting their stares linger in his direction. Bobby stood up wordless and made his way towards a locked closet in the hallway. From there, he pulled out a small chest and with it, an even smaller key that would unlock it. Both boys looked on with curious eyes.

“What’s that Bobby?” Dean asked.

“Something I didn’t think about before, but should have,” Bobby mused as he slipped the key into the aging keyhole and turned it counterclockwise, a satisfying  _click_ sound following. “Your daddy at one point went hunting for this thing, but he was met with so many urban legends and no concrete proof it actually existed he eventually gave up. I never told him I had it because I knew he’d never give it back. As good a hunter as he was, John didn’t like to share toys. Even if they weren’t his.”

Sam and Dean gathered behind Bobby as he slowly opened the chest’s semi-cylindrical top and revealed a smaller case that held an antique revolver. The gun itself bore marks and etchings that indicated it was a supernatural weapon, as well as an inscription that read “ _non timebo mala._ ”

“What’s that inscription mean?” Dean inquired.

“I will fear no evil,” Sam muttered. Dean looked at him but wasn’t surprised.

“Legend goes,” Bobby began, “that in 1835, when Haley’s Comet was soarin’ overhead, Samuel Colt made a gun and 13 special bullets. It was a weapon for a hunter. Man like us only on horseback. They say this gun can kill anything, supernatural or not. If you’re looking for an alternative to Y/N for killing this yellow-eyed son of a bitch, here’s your answer.”

Sam and Dean marveled at the weapon, neatly fitted into its case. Twelve of the thirteen spaces for its bullets were empty. But that didn’t matter to them. The Winchesters knew they’d only need one shot to achieve their lifelong goal.

Dean picked up the gun and admired it in his hand. Finger away from the trigger, he pointed it at the wall, eyeing the sights and the feel. Then he handed it to Sam handle-side first. The younger Winchester took it and repeated the same motions as his brother, then placed it carefully back in its case.

—

“How do we even know Yellow Eyes is still gonna be there?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala as his brother drove nearly double the speed limit to get back to Cold Oak. “For all we know, they could be long gone.”

“Well until we can confirm that,” Dean mused, slightly annoyed, “we’re heading to Cold Oak. At least it’s not too far from Bobby’s place.”

The rest of the car ride was silent as night fell upon them, the blanket of darkness matching the Impala’s impeccable coat of paint. Pulling into the same place as before, Sam and Dean got out. Dean had the Colt pocketed in the inside pocket of his jacket. Sam had a regular pistol tucked against the small of his back like he always did, despite knowing it wouldn’t do a damn thing against the demon.

They didn’t have to take but a few steps to hear the demonic laughter coming from directly behind them. Both brothers spun around, Sam aiming his gun at him. Dean kept the Colt tucked away until he was ready to reveal; he didn’t want to let slip early on that he had the only weapon, aside from Y/N, capable of killing Yellow Eyes.

“Now I know your daddy raised you better than this,” Yellow Eyes grinned. “John had his way with stupidity. Sad to say he passed it on to his boys.”

Sam was about to respond, but Y/N walked directly in front of the demon, and Sam’s heart shattered.

She looked worse than before; physically sick, like she’d been battling a non-stop round of the flu for weeks on end. Her hair was matted and in need of a good wash, and her skin an ashen hue. Her eyes now matched the demon’s, down to the pupil-less gleam of piss-yellow. It nauseated the younger brother.

Dean maintained his death glare towards Yellow Eyes.

“Well, this oughta be fun!” Yellow Eyes laughed again. Y/N started to raise her hands up and what was once her shimmering blue light of power now had a gray visage to it. Dull and dying. Almost like she currently looked.

Y/N had no emotion in her face. No anguish, or anger, or even sadness. Just…nothing.

“NOW DEAN!” Sam yelled.

In a flash of movement, Dean produced the Colt, pulled back the hammer, and then the trigger. But as he’d never shot the gun before, he missed the mark on his sights.

The bullet whizzed passed Y/N head. Had she moved even a millimeter, she’d be dead on the ground instantly with a gunshot wound to the head.

That, sadly, was the only good thing to come out of Dean’s shot.

The bullet lodged itself into the demon’s leg, causing him to crumple to the ground.

A few seconds later, Y/N did the same thing, breathing hard as she caught herself on her hands and knees.

While Yellow Eyes grappled with the pain of being shot by the Colt, Sam rushed to Y/N’s side. She was blinking rapidly while tears stung her eyes.

“Y/N?” Sam said softly, taking her hands into his and easing her off the cold ground. She looked up at him, and he could see the shade of Y/E/C returning to fruition.

“Sam?” Y/N shuddered. “Where am I? What happened?”

“It’s okay,” Sam replied, taking her into his arms and embracing her. “You’re safe now.”

“Guess again!”

Sam and Y/N whipped their heads around to see Yellow Eyes starting to get to his feet just as Dean was coming down to meet the two of them. He was angry and his eyes now had a slight glow to them, signifying whatever power he had. Y/N broke free from Sam’s embrace to stand between him, Dean and Yellow Eyes.

“You will  _never_ hurt us again!” Y/N slowly growled out as she raised her hands up. A battle cry escaped her throat as she lashed out, her power the most intense it had ever been in her life. She slapped the demon across the face with enough force to knock him down on the ground again, and that was her moment to strike.

She thrashed both hands as far into the demon’s chest as she could, not holding back any restraint as she unloaded her power into him.

Yellow Eyes had what appeared to be a grand mal seizure, and then went still. Eternally.

Sam and Dean slowly stood up once they knew the demon that had taken their mother, and Sam’s late girlfriend, was dead.

Y/N collapsed to the ground in one swift motion, blackness stealing away her consciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, FLUFF, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, COMA, BED SHARING, SLIGHT VIOLENCE (if you squint)

* * *

 

 

Not a word was spoken on the drive back to Bobby’s house.

Sam and Dean were in their places up front, while an unconscious Y/N was draped with a blanket across the backseat.

Sam did the honors of carrying her into the house. Bobby was worried when he saw them.

“Is she?”

“Dead?” Sam finished for the older hunter as Bobby slipped two fingers across Y/N’s neck. “No. But she may as well be. She dropped hard after she killed the demon.”

“Wait,” Bobby said as Sam laid her gently on the couch. Dean placed several blankets on top of her. “Y/N killed it? What about the Colt? Don’t tell me you idijts wasted the last bullet on a miss!”

“I don’t know why I missed,” Dean tried to explain, “it’s not like I’ve never shot a revolver or a Colt before. Maybe it was the wind or something. It doesn’t matter though, Bobby. We ganked the fucker. He’s gone for good. And now…” Dean looked down at Y/N, wondering if she was even breathing. “We got more important things to worry about.”

Sam offered to take the first watch over Y/N as she slept. Dean made a pot of coffee and Bobby decided to head to bed. It was going to be a long night.

—

That night turned into days, and as the days turned into weeks, Sam and Dean started to grow concerned.

Y/N hadn’t so much as stirred in her slumber. Sam surmised that she was probably comatose, but in no danger of dying. The most Sam and Dean could do was ensure she was still breathing, her heart was still beating, and keep watch over her until she woke up.

Dean took to shifting her position on the couch a few times a day so she didn’t develop any sores. Sam thought it was a good idea and added a few reposition maneuvers of his own. The truth was, despite the slight risk of her actually developing the same bed sores old people got in nursing homes, they also knew that Bobby’s plaid fabric couch was much older than they were. And it was only comfortable in the short term. The last thing they wanted was for her to wake up needing an immediate chiropractor appointment.

Dean eventually stopped sleeping in his room and made do with sleeping in the recliner across from the couch. Sam eventually joined them, making a pallet on the floor. If she were to wake up when he fell asleep, her foot in his face would be all the notification he would need.

But the longer she was unconscious, the more the boys fear grew that she would never wake up. Though neither Winchester voiced their concerns out loud.

Bobby and the boys developed a routine over time. Whoever got up first would check on Y/N, and reposition her, then start a pot of coffee. Throughout the day, typically once an hour, they would rotate who took care of her. Then when night fell, one last check and reposition before everyone dispersed to go to bed. None of them did night watch anymore as Sam and Dean were both sleeping in the living room close by. Y/N was never left alone in the house. It was uncertain if Yellow Eyes had minions that could come after her. Despite the entire house being completely demon-proof and occupied by three experienced hunters, it didn’t hurt to be thorough.

Eventually, Sam and Dean couldn’t physically sleep in the living room anymore; Sam, with his lanky figure, had to spend an extra fifteen minutes each morning working out the kinks in his back before going on his morning run but even that wasn’t cutting it anymore. Dean was just tired of being cramped in the recliner for so many nights, tossing and turning to get comfortable. So Bobby offered up his own bedroom to allow Y/N and the boys to sleep there at night. His bed was almost as old as the couch, but it was decidedly more comfortable than anything the living room offered. So they accepted, Y/N tucked safely between the brothers.

—

A shrieking gasp sounded in the middle of the night, causing Sam and Dean to bolt upright and reach for their guns. But when they saw Y/N sitting up with them, the most frightening look on her face, they stowed the weapons away, fearing it would do more harm than good.

“Y/N?” Sam said breathlessly as Dean switched on the lamp on his side of the bed.

Y/N was breathing too hard to reply, the gasps going in and coming out with a slight high pitched whistle.

Sam and Dean checked her over as she calmed down, recognizing where she was, though she was still confused as to how she got to Bobby’s house. Bobby could be heard running down the hall to his room to see the commotion. He breathed a sigh of relief to see Y/N finally awake.

“Should I make some coffee?” Bobby asked, his voice clouded with interrupted sleep.

“No,” Y/N breathed. “I, uh…I think it can wait til the morning…the three of you…look too exhausted to hold your eyes open…much less a coherent conversation…” Her sentences were broken up, as if talking took more energy than she had.

Sam and Dean looked back at Bobby, who just nodded as the boys tucked themselves back into Y/N’s sides. Bobby closed the door as Dean reached over the turn the lamp off, and the three of them laid in silence for a bit.

“We’re glad you’re okay,” Sam whispered in her ear as Dean nuzzled his face into the crook of her opposing neck.

“Me too,” Y/N sighed as the last bit of consciousness she’d regained faded away into the night.

—

The following morning, everyone woke up more or less at the same time. Sam and Dean felt like they’d slept a week, refreshed and renewed. Bobby was already making coffee when they walked Y/N down who, despite feeling a lot better, was still unstable on her feet.

After a cup of coffee was drunk among the four of them, Sam started the conversation.

“So…how are you feeling?”

“Okay I guess,” Y/N said. “Although I feel like I’ve been asleep for a month.”

“Forty-six days,” Dean deadpanned. Y/N’s eyes widen. Dean just nodded.

“But…” Y/N began, “why keep me here? If I was asleep for that long, why not take me to the hospital?”

“Well,” Bobby answered, “as much as I wanted to, I don’t think there was anything a doctor could’ve treated. Besides, we would’ve had to explain why you were more or less comatose…and that would’ve raised more suspicions than anything.”

Y/N just nodded and sipped more of her coffee.

Dean cleared his throat before saying, “so besides that…how are you doing?”

Y/N slowly put her cup down and brought her hands out in front of her, palms facing up. She had a mixed expression of wanting to cry and depression on her face. Sam, Dean and Bobby watched her carefully.

“I…I think my powers are gone…”

The men exchanged looks before Y/N did the unexpected.

She slapped her hands across Sam’s chest, much in the same way she did when she was actually trying to kill him. Dean and Bobby immediately went on the defensive, Dean going for Sam and Bobby reaching to grab Y/N to pull her away from Sam. But it was all for naught.

Nothing happened. Sam’s heart kept pounding away against his rib cage and Y/N’s hands remained their own skin tone. No flash of light to identify her power.

Everyone blinked and took a collective breath, Sam’s a bit heavier than the rest, as Y/N came to terms with the reality that killing the Yellow Eyed demon left her an ordinary human.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST, SUICIDAL TENDENCIES, DEPRESSION, SLIGHT FLUFF AT THE END

* * *

 

 

The darkness that swirled through Y/N’s subconscious slowly ate away at her soul. Or so it felt.

She’d never quite known was it was like to be depressed. Her demeanor her whole life had been upbeat and positive. Glass half full. In her opinion, there wasn’t a problem that couldn’t be solved with a good book, a nice glass of wine, and a smile. Those days felt light years away.

Y/N didn’t really know  _why_ she was depressed either. Related to her powers being gone for good, sure, but she never anticipated the loss to bring about an emptiness. She’d never consider them something that defined her. They weren’t the object of her strength, character, or intellect. They just simply were.

She’d graduated at the top of her class in high school, and then graduated from college with a bachelors degree in comuputer programming, minoring in software engineering. But short of moving closer to Indianapolis or, God forbid, out of state, she knew she wouldn’t get the job she wanted. She was born and raised in Carmal, Indiana; it was the only home she’d ever known. Finding a dream job just didn’t hold enough weight to rationalize moving one’s entire life. Not in Y/N’s opinion, anyway.

But nonetheless, she started to wonder if maybe making that jump into leaving would’ve avoided all this…mess.

Y/N didn’t know where her powers originated. Her parents were not super human killing entities, and neither was anyone else in her family. To her knowledge, Y/N was the only one.

She did more in her life than using her powers. In fact, the only way she knew about them was because she killed a stray dog that was chasing after her when she was fourteen. Turned out the dog was rabid and everyone assumed the rabies infection caused its heart to short out. The only people who knew about her abilities, as far as she knew, were her parents. But they’d since died long ago. Then, of course, there was Uncle Bobby. Once she’d learned he was a hunter, she felt comfortable enough to tell him about it. He never judged or said anything to make her think she was abnormal or a freak. Probably why she’d gravitated towards having a closer relationship with him after her parents’ death.

Y/N surmised that Bobby probably told John Winchester about her powers, which made him send his sons to protect her.

None of this mattered now. Like she’d told Sam and Dean. She had no life. Her home, her girls, her community; they were all gone thanks to this mess. Her depression churned and developed into something ugly. Something she’d never experienced before.

At first, it scared her. Then, she slowly started coming around to the idea. But she knew she couldn’t do it herself. She would need help.

Padding downstairs to the living room, she found Sam, Dean, and Bobby all sitting quietly around. Sam was on his computer, no doubt searching for another hunt, Dean was channel surfing on Bobby’s little television that still had rabbit ears from the 80s. And Bobby was sitting at his desk doing a crosswords puzzle in the local paper. All eyes looked up when she came into their line of sight.

“Y/N!” Dean exclaimed, turning the TV off and tossing the remote on the couch.

“Hey kiddo,” Bobby said, tearing his eyes away from his paper. “We didn’t think you’d ever come out of the guest room. You’ve been in there over a week.”

Y/N didn’t reply. Sam glanced up from the screen in front of him. He would’ve looked back down, but he knew the look on her face.

“Hi guys,” Y/N replied in a small, defeated voice. It prompted Sam to get up from his seat. Behind her, he saw something gleaming in the afternoon sunlight that spilled through the window.

It was a gun.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Sam asked, scared. Dean and Bobby gave him a weird look, which quickly turned into concern and fear as Y/N produced the weapon from behind her. The three of them surrounded her; none of them believed she was going to shoot them. Which only made their fears escalate.

“I…” Y/N cried softly, bringing the gun closer to her person. “I can’t do this anymore…I know my powers weren’t anything that defined me, but now that they’re gone…I… _God_ I feel so empty inside!” Tears started streaming down her face. “But…” she hiccuped, “I’m too much of a coward to do it myself…please…will one of you just…end it for me? God, I feel so pathetic for feeling this way! But, I-I-I.”

Y/N started sobbing loudly, dropping to her knees. Though she did not hit the floor. Sam and Dean went down with her as Bobby slipped the gun out of her hand. Dean brought her closer to his chest and whispered soft things into her hair. Sam rubbed her back with large circles while also whispering soft things. She continued to sob until her body wouldn’t let her anymore. Bobby put the gun in a cabinet where she wouldn’t be able to reach and brought back a box of tissues for her. Sam plucked a few out of the box and dabbed her eyes and cheeks with it.

“Y/N,” Sam began, his voice like soothing honey, “we’re not gonna kill you. We can’t.”

“Yeah,” Dean mused, “I mean, do you have any idea how heartbroken and weepy college boy over here would be if we lost you?”

Y/N looked up at Dean, who was smiling.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Sam grinned, “ _he’ll_  be the one crying.”

Y/N turned just in time to see Sam stick his tongue out at his brother, who’s smile was replaced by a childish scowl. She laughed, and it was music to the brothers’ ears.

“Well, I do have one idea,” Bobby supplied. Everyone stopped to look at him. “You could always show her how to hunt. You know, the way y'all idjits do it.”

“I could do that,” Y/N said as Sam and Dean helped her up from the floor. “I already know how to shoot and hand to hand combat was a lot of fun. You know, when we were practicing.”

“This chick can field strip every weapon in the Impala,” Dean told Bobby. Bobby let out a low whistle. “Neither me nor Sam can do that.”

“I don’t know any hunter that can, truth be told,” Bobby replied.

“What do you say, Y/N?” Sam said, extending his hand out for Y/N to take. “Will you be our hunting partner?”

Y/N looked between the three men. It was like she was seeing life, and the Winchesters, with new eyes.

She’d never noticed before, but they were  _handsome._  Sam was slightly taller than his brother, maybe three or four inches or so, and his shaggy brown hair was something of a signature look for him. Dean looked like he hadn’t had his monthly military fade since high school, with the top spiked slightly in all directions; also a good signature look for him.

She took both of their hands and replied, “I would be honored.”


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter gives a generalized overview of what happens to our heroes between season 2 through mid-season 8, ending with their discovery that Sam and Dean are Men of Letters by birthright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEVERE ANGST, SLIGHT FLUFF, LANGUAGE, IMPLIED SMUT, MENTIONS OF SEX, HAPPY ENDING SHIT, POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP

* * *

 

 

The road so far had taken Sam, Dean and Y/N on many adventures, as well as many misadventures.

A few months after taking them up on their offer to hunt with them, Y/N witnessed a demon murder Sam before her very eyes. He died in her arms before she could do anything about it, blood seeping from his mouth and nose. She cried the whole way back to Bobby’s house and laid on his chest, sobbing over the loss.

Dean got really angry when Bobby made the comment about either burying him or giving him a hunter’s wake. But before anyone knew what he was planning, he made a crossroads demon deal to bring Sam back. The sudden gasp of air from Sam’s chest caused Y/N to faint. When she woke up, she felt like she was in a dream. Sam was  _dead._  There was no way he could be alive, standing over her with the same concerned expression he showed her when his father told her she was to be their weapon against Yellow Eyes. He started asking questions after seeing the shocked look on her face. She was none the wiser, so she told him he was dead.

Sam and Y/N immediately confronted Dean, who now had no choice but to tell them he had one year to live before Hellhounds would drag him down to the Pit for an eternity of torture and demise. As if anyone went to Hell for a beach vacation.

Despite their best efforts, and the warnings of breaking him from the deal, Dean was indeed killed by Hellhounds in a most brutal fashion while Sam and Y/N watched. Both of them cried over their loss, Dean’s unblinking death stare boring a hole in the ceiling.

Sam and Y/N drifted apart after that. Sam was so lost without his brother that he didn’t see anything except revenge for the demon that made the deal with Dean in the first place. Y/N, having neither Winchester to grieve with, went back to Bobby’s and moved in. She ditched all her burner phones and fake IDs and vowed hunting was in her past now. She vowed that as long as she lived, the Winchesters would forever be just memories.

That all changed when Dean came back from Hell, and strolled through Bobby’s front door like he’d never died in the first place. Y/N nearly shot him with a rock-salt filled shotgun. Bobby wasn’t too happy that she’d taken out one of his front windows.

Finding Sam should’ve been a happy reunion; the OG gang back together and ready to take on the world again, but something was…off about him. Y/N was the first to notice; her previous interactions with Ruby left much to be desired. But the tension between the three of them hit a head when Dean and Y/N learned Ruby was manipulating Sam into releasing Lucifer from the Cage. By the time they realized they could stop it, it was already too late. And his addiction to her demonic bloodstream only added to the strain of their relationship.

Making matters worse, it was revealed that Sam and Dean were both supposed to be Lucifer and the Archangel Michael’s true vessels, and Heaven and Hell were counting on them to be “worn to prom” as Dean called it, and battle each other to the death.

Neither of them said yes. Neither of them bowed before the guys upstairs or downstairs. The world would’ve been destroyed had Sam not changed his mind at the last minute. Taking on Lucifer as his vessel required to drink more demon blood than he ever had in his life; it pained Y/N to watch him gulp down nearly fifteen gallons as fast as he could breathe. But it was the only way he would be able to contain the devil.

And so, she watched Sam die a second death in as many years.

—

With the world saved, and Y/N and Dean intending on keeping the “move on without me” promise they made to Sam, they decided to stick together.

They found a place to live in a moderately sized town where things were as apple-pie as they wanted. Their neighbors were friendly; and by that, they didn’t ask many questions. Dean found a respectable job as a construction worker, and Y/N found her calling at a local animal shelter.

At first, she thought being surrounded by animals would only be a painful reminder of the ones she’d lost, but it turned into bringing Weiss, Blake, and Yang the justice they should have never needed to receive. She took it for what it was and worked hard.

All that changed when Djinn attacked them at home and Sam reappeared, saving their asses. Shocking at his revival was an understatement; neither of them believed it was really him until he proved it, the hunter’s way.

While Dean didn’t see it at first, Y/N knew immediately that, once again, something was off with Sam. It didn’t take long for them to discover he was pulled out of Lucifer’s cage without his soul. And that brought on its own set of problems.

With this, and the three of them were back to hunting full time, both Dean and Y/N were forced to leave their jobs without so much as a courtesy call. Y/N almost felt bad for leaving; she felt she was going some real good for once in her life. Sure, hunting had a “save the world” kind of environment, but who really knew that? Most of the hunters they had encountered over the years didn’t know all the details of their adventures. And none of them were trustworthy enough to know. So if she was given a choice between being a literal world saving hero, or saving the world one rescue animal at a time, she’s probably choose the animals.

Or, maybe that’s what she told herself to get over the fact that she wasn’t meant to have that “normal, apple-pie life,” as Sam and Dean called it.

Once Sam’s soul was restored, and the wall in his mind established, they started facing problems bigger than themselves. Bigger than anyone on Earth.

Their angel friend, Castiel, proved to not be as trustworthy as he once was; if you could even call it that. His revelation that he was the one who pulled Sam out of the cage without his soul hurt. Dean was hit the hardest; Y/N was upset but also indifferent. Dean and Castiel seemed to have a friendship that neither her nor Sam could ever achieve. And Sam just wanted to know why. Y/N felt that Sam never really got the answer he was looking for.

Despite all of this, after everything Sam, Dean and Y/N had been through, sometimes she wondered if she would ever feel like she was part of the team. She felt like an outsider most of the time, even with the obvious feelings the brothers had for her. Neither of them had ever outright expressed such feelings verbally. Most because, they didn’t have to. Sam and Dean Winchester had become easy to read over the years, and it made for filling in the gaps from their silent communication satisfying.

Without uttering a single word, she could tell which one of them needed her more, or when they both needed her. She could sense which one of them wanted their bed warmed by her alone, or if all three of them needed to share a bed. The way they touched her was also an indication. Sex was never a topic for discussion. The brothers would silently ask if she needed her needs met, and they would act accordingly. They always made her feel good, no matter what she was in the mood for. Nothing fancy, no wild or adventurous kinks or positions explored. There was no need; it was just pleasurable bliss whenever the time was right.

So, when Dean managed to kill the leader of the Leviathans and disappear in an explosion of black goo, Y/N believed she’d once again witnessed one of the brothers dying. And Sam needed her more than ever.

Like Dean and her before, Sam and Y/N gave up hunting. They moved to Texas and started a life for themselves. Sam found work as a maintenance technician, and it turned out he was very good at it. Y/N opted to stay home. They passed it off like they were married; even going as far as to furnish fake documentation. Mr. Sam Wesson, and his beloved bride Y/N.

The pain of losing Dean was felt through every touch Y/N made towards Sam. Every breath was a threat that more crying was inevitable. Every beat of his heart was agonizing knowing Dean’s would never beat again. Y/N could feel it. But they carried on. And neither of them expected Dean to come back this time.

They should’ve known better. And they should’ve expected Dean to be pissed when they told him they didn’t look for him. Sam and Dean got into a major fight over it, Y/N trying to play referee, justifying their actions and pleading with Dean to understand. But once again, being reunited only put a strain on their relationship. Dean’s association with Benny, a vampire he partnered up with in Purgatory, pitted Sam against him. Sam and Y/N’s reluctance to hunt and look out for Kevin, the prophet who helped them defeat the Leviathans, ultimately led him to go missing; Dean blamed them for it without any reserves of his anger. Y/N refused to feel guilty about it and told Dean as such.

—

Trials and tribulations (literally, as the recently recovered Kevin revealed on the Demon Tablet) led the Winchesters and Y/N to discovering Sam and Dean were Men of Letters, a secret society of men and women who were in charge of keeping archives of the mysteries of the supernatural and the arcane arts. Their grandfather Henry, whom was presumed to have walked out on John when he was a kid, revealed after he time traveled into the closet of their motel room. Only a few hunters in the world at the time knew of this powerful lore. And Sam and Dean were practically given the keys to their inheritance. Despite dying in Sam’s arms, Henry gave them the key to their bunker, which used to be their headquarters back in the 1950s.

Once again, Y/N felt like the outsider.

“This place is massive!” Sam breathed, walking through the now-lit bunker. His eyes were rapidly scanning every single crevice and corner of what would be their new home like a kid in a candy store.

“It’s like their Bat cave!” Dean exclaimed, checking out some of the ancient swords mounted next to one of over a dozen shelves of books, no doubt binding magic and lore thought to be lost for ages.

Y/N looked around curiously but didn’t pursue anything specifically. She didn’t want to be a downer at the Winchester’s newly discovered legacy status, so she kept her mouth shut.

She moved in with them, and opted for her own bedroom. She had to admit, having a bed to call her own was a nice change from all the dingy motel rooms they’d stayed in over the years. She’d always shared a bed with either Sam, Dean or both of them. She, like the brothers, even had her own bathroom. It wasn’t a perfect home, but it was the closest she was going to get compared to her old house in Carmel, Indiana.

Sam felt the need to feed his inner lore junkie, so he sat down one day and started reading through all the archives. He learned a little bit about who the original Men of Letters were and the incident in 1958 that led to their defunct status. But one piece of paper changed everything.

“Y/N?” Sam called out.

“Yes?” Y/N replied, biting into a piece of toast.

“Check this out,” Sam said, showing her the information he’d just discovered. “You, uh..you wouldn’t happen to be related to a Sir Conrad Y/L/N, would you?”

Y/N blinked. “Uh…if I’m remembering correctly, there was a Conrad that was my father’s father…which would’ve made him my grandfather. He, uh…he disappeared in the late 50s when my dad was a kid…he never spoke about him though. Not really.”

A thought occurred to Y/N, and she froze. “Why do you ask?”

Sam smiled and handed her a file, complete with an aging photograph of the man who would be her grandfather.

A Man of Letters.

“Son of a bitch,” Y/N breathed softly.

“There’s an entire box full of files and documentation on the Y/L/N family alone,” Sam grinned. “It goes back at least a few decades before the Men of Letters’ destruction.”

“So…” Y/N slowly began, “you’re saying-”

“You’re a legacy. Just like Dean and me. You’re a Woman of Letters!”

Y/N sighed, plopping down in a chair next to Sam. Sometimes, she could feel his thought penetrating her brain. Sam had the empathic powers of any witch they’d tussled with; he could sense her mood and feelings no matter the time of day. Therefore, he knew she was feeling like an outcast. Like she didn’t belong. No matter how many times he told her she belonged with them, it never stuck. Sometimes he feared going to bed because he didn’t know if she’d still be there in the morning. He’d learned his lesson about keeping her against her will and wouldn’t have stopped her if she did decide to leave. This new information could be the key to helping her realize her place with them.

Suddenly, she laughed out loud.

“What?” Sam asked. “What’s so funny?”

“All this time,” Y/N started, “I’d been faking my way through life. Having my powers made me the freak. Being weaponized after meeting you and your brother and dad gave me some kind of drive, but once those powers were gone, I was lost again. Between then and now, seeing what we’ve seen, watching you and Dean die a few times…I felt like I was the one who was always waiting. Always staying behind because someone had to. But now…” She looked up at Sam and smiled. “I think I have the key to living a good life. I…I am a Woman of Letters. And I’ll make damn sure to live up to that name.”

“You already have.”

Dean had walked in on their conversation and couldn’t help but speak up now, causing Sam and Y/N to whip their heads around to face him.

“Despite all the shit we’ve been through, you have  _always_  been right where you’re meant to be. With us. Whether we were hunting or trying to live that normal lifestyle, you were always meant to be with us. The three of us against the world. Come whatever.”

Dean walked over as Sam put his arm around Y/N; Dean did the same thing from her opposite side.

“We love you, baby,” Dean grinned, Sam nodding in agreement. “You are never alone as long as we’re around.”

“You’ve helped us in more ways than you will ever know,” Sam chimed in.

Y/N could feel hot tears emerging from her eyelids. She wrapped an arm around each brother, and they simultaneously kissed her on each cheek.

“I love you both too.”

##  **F I N**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who’s given this series love! <3 xx


End file.
